Win Without A Fight
by Closet Adventuralist
Summary: Darcy was holding a cup of coffee in one hand, the heat seeping through the Styrofoam as she observed Tony's body flying face first out of the high rise window of his living room. What follows is a strange and twisted turn of events that begins with the coolest end of the world possible. Darcy/Loki.
1. Chapter 1

**For those of you who have read Pawn Takes King, you know that I have a great love for this ship. What you probably don't know is that there was a completely different story line prior to my writing of PTK. I stumbled across it, going through some old files and decided to flesh it out a bit. This is the result of the story taking on a life of its own and expanding during my free time. Enjoy!**

Darcy was holding a cup of coffee in one hand, the heat seeping through the Styrofoam as she observed Tony's body flying face first out of the high rise window of his living room. For the last few weeks she had been the office gopher, running errands and uploading paperwork to the server while the superheroes went about saving the world. It was all she could do with her limited skills, though she had finished her degree a few months previous. They didn't tell her much, and Fury still gave her a guarded look when she entered the room, but she gathered that there was some serious shit going down in the city that day.

The man standing at the window was seemingly cast in shadow, his dark hair, armor, and aura signaled that this was a bad guy—possibly _the_ bad guy. Thor only spoke of him sporadically, and Darcy had taken a peek at his classified file that one time while Tony was passed out on the couch from exhaustion (or alcohol, she couldn't really tell). Loki was seriously bad news, having started a rampage through the world out of some kind of misplaced anger and resentment towards Thor. The file read like a murder mystery novel she had read in English Lit last year, and it honestly made her a little sick to her stomach. There was no conscience, no regret, and no mercy in him as he instilled mayhem wherever he went, laughing along the way. Though Darcy considered herself a girl who could roll with the punches, there was a line that should not be crossed and he not only crossed it, he leapt across it with glee.

Of course there was a picture in the file, and Darcy had glanced at it briefly while keeping an eye on the snoring genius across the room. The photo was a candid shot and he was in full armor, that ridiculous helmeted head held high despite facing off with two of the Avengers team. In her opinion, humble as it was, it didn't do him justice. He was at least a foot taller than she imagined him, and there was something in his bearing that couldn't possibly be captured on camera. Her eyes widened as Loki turned from the window, spotting her across the room, still holding the coffee in one hand and a stack of files in the other.

The prototype of Tony's new suit burst out from beside her, shooting towards the window and out towards Tony's falling body. She knew Tony would make the fall, but she had doubts about her survival rate with the world's most wanted super villain. As casually as she could, Darcy set the coffee and files on a nearby table, contemplating whether or not she would make it to the elevator in time to keep her heart beating. Loki watched her with guarded eyes, nimble fingers toying with the scepter in his hands in what she considered a thoughtful manner.

Having never really understood her own bravado, Darcy plunged forth into conversation with a nervous smile, "So you're Loki."

His head tilted lightly to the side, dark hair falling forward over the collar of his coat, "I am. And since you have the benefit of my name, may I have the same courtesy of yours?"

She hadn't expected him to be so polite, and to be honest it threw her off a bit. "I'm Darcy," spilled forth from her mouth before she could stop the words. She did, however, manage not to couple her outburst with 'I'm Jane's assistant.' The two sentences had been so irrevocably tied together over the last month or so that they came out naturally as her address and birth date. No one really questioned her now as they mostly ignored her rambling and ability to make a sexual innuendo out of literally any sentence, but she digressed.

Returning her attention to the man sauntering towards her, Darcy toed off her sandals, knowing that if she had to run, the flip flops would only slow her down. He circled the overly priced coffee table and Darcy felt her heart begin to pound as she began to understand the flight or fight mentality of prey. She kept as much distance between them as possible, moving towards the bar where she knew there were at least three knives hanging out on the counter. The dance continued in slow concentric circles, Darcy keeping her eyes on Loki while his smile widened with each step. She didn't like this smile, it was indicative of something akin to her demise and there was some part of her that was snapping her fingers and telling him that she wasn't going down without a fight.

Darcy reached the bar and played at arranging herself on the far counter while palming the blade in a movement Coulson had taught her one day while they waited for a bus. Loki followed very slowly, stopping short and leaning against a low cabinet. He regarded her for a long moment, his eyes taking in her level gaze and lightly trembling form. She waited as patiently as someone like her could, wanting to know his plans and fearing them all the same.

"Darcy," he intoned in a low, honeyed voice.

"Loki," she shot back in a childish, petulant tone that made her wince a little inside. The corners of his mouth lifted marginally, though his chin lowered in challenge. Darcy swallowed, knowing that she had little time to either get going or get out. She flicked her hair from her eyes and crossed her legs, looking up at him through her glasses, "So, what are you doing here?"

Long fingers tapped out a rhythm along the counter as he moved inexorably forward, "I am bringing an army to conquer Midgard."

Darcy chuckled despite her own horror, "Good luck with that. We're not exactly keen on being conquered."

"I disagree," he replied smoothly, stopping just inches from her knees. "Your kind beg for it."

It was said simply, and without a hint of humor, but Darcy found herself reacting in the strangest way. A shiver of awareness shot straight down her spine and settled low in her abdomen with a burn that felt similar to a shot of whiskey. Her hands clenched around the blade and counter until the sensation of pain took from her the distraction of his words and voice. Breath spinning through her lungs, Darcy managed a sarcastic smirk and a roll of her eyes that she hoped was believable.

"And we're supposed to, what, bow to you because you've got an _army_?" She said through a forced smile. "Besides, you don't want to rule earth, believe me. Not even our own people want to rule it. Politics here is a system of organized chaos and most of us are just along for the ride."

Loki considered her reply, his tongue peeking out to roll along his lower lip while he thought. Darcy had to glance away or be forced to go on the offensive—what was _wrong_ with her? Here she was, face to face with a villain straight out of fiction and her mind kept wondering if he would kiss her before she died. She had always had a thing for bad boys and, let's face it, the leather was pretty hot, but this was a whole new level of morbidity that Darcy wasn't sure she could handle. Steadying herself, Darcy ran her thumb along the line of the knife in her hand, reminding herself that the fate of the world was at stake and even though she wasn't exactly a superhero, she was still an employee of Shield and she had a job to do.

"Let me decide what I want," he issued lowly. "But, I will mull over your 'organized chaos' while I rule your world."

"That's reassuring," Darcy replied dryly.

His answering chuckle was soft enough that she had the urge to lean forward just to hear it better, though she seemed frozen in place on the counter. Loki laid the scepter next to her hips, one hand tapping against her crossed knees. As if on instinct, her body unfolded and allowed him to step forward so that her thighs settled on either side of his hips.

"You're afraid," he continued.

Darcy lifted a brow, "You just said you were planning on using an army to, quote, 'conquer' my world. I'd be an idiot to not be afraid, Loki."

"Smart," he whispered, "Very smart. And yet, here we are."

Darcy had to agree—here she was, sitting on a counter with Earth's most wanted and she was not only carrying on a conversation with him, but she was allowing him to come within inches of her body. She wasn't screaming, she wasn't begging for her life, and though there was a healthy dose of fear, she was relatively calm. It was official, Darcy had lost her mind. Taking a deep breath, she held his gaze, knowing that the next few seconds would decide her fate. From far away, Loki was imposing. Up close, he was a conjecture of colors and radiating sensations. Confused, she searched his expression frantically for his intentions, finding no indication of life or death—only curiosity shone forth from eyes the color of Kentucky bluegrass. He looked at her like students looked at sculptures in a museum, with wonder and a sense of appreciation for the work in front of him.

Reaching up, Loki brushed the line of her jaw with one long finger, pressing the pad to her chin gently, and there came with it a spark of color flitting across her gaze. "Put the knife down."

"What?" Darcy exclaimed in surprise.

Shaking his head, Loki leaned down so that they were sharing the same breath, "The knife in your right hand, Darcy. Put it down, or I will take it from you."

"Oh," Darcy said lamely. Her fingers relaxed against the blade, pressing it to the counter almost against her will. "I'm not sorry."

He smiled gently, "I would be greatly disappointed if you were." Threading his fingers through hers, he pulled the knife from her potential grasp and dropped it casually to the floor. "I am curious, though. What did you think you were going to do with it?"

Darcy shrugged, "Try to protect myself I guess."

His laugh was full bellied and he had to brace his palms on either side of her hips just to keep his balance. "Surely, you jest."

"Shut up, I could do it. And don't call me Shirley. The name is Darcy Lewis and you should get to know it." Mentally, she was slapping herself silly for the biting tone and the brash reply, but her pride wouldn't let her back down and wouldn't let him laugh at her when her life was on the line.

The laughter in his expression faded into stern appraisal and Darcy could practically see the cogs turning in his mind as he deciphered her words. The hand, which still held her chin, slid over her skin to rest at the nape of her neck, holding her in place while he considered her form. Darcy's fingers curled in on themselves, weaponless and waiting while the air around them thickened to near claustrophobic sensation. Inhaling, Darcy was hit with a scent that she knew she would never forget. It was almost sweet, like peppermint laced with strong, dark wine, rolling through her senses and dulling her awareness effortlessly. As much as her body reveled in it, Darcy's mind rebelled in the knowledge that this pseudo truce between them was temporary and he would soon get back to killing, mayhem, and world domination.

A thud from the outer balcony signaled that their time alone had expired and Darcy was both pleased and dissatisfied with that knowledge. Loki dropped his hand and stepped away, sliding the scepter along with him as he turned to face his opponent. Thor stepped inside the open doors of the living room, and Darcy could see the piercing blue of his eyes flicking here and there, assessing the situation. When he glanced at her, she waved vaguely, as if to apologize for being in the same room when the fight was going down.

"Are you well, Darcy?" Thor asked carefully, curiously.

Darcy nodded, "Peachy keen."

"Good. Get to the security room."

And that was all she needed to flee. Having been paralyzed by Loki for so long, her legs strained with the movement towards the elevator. She tapped the button, moving between and through the doors as they opened. Turning to face the two brothers, Darcy waited impatiently for the doors to close in front of her. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans, wiggling her bare toes against the cold tiled floor. There was going to be something epic going on in the room before her, but Darcy wanted none of it, and with the way Loki was looking at her Darcy could tell that whatever had just happened was far from over. This wouldn't be the last she would see of the god of mischief, even if she hid deep in the tunnels of Shield for the rest of her life. The confusing part of it was that she didn't know whether or not to be exhilarated or terrified.

The ride down to the security level was agonizingly slow, especially with the sounds going on around her. Pounding echoed above her and the lights flickered everywhere, the elevator groaned beneath her weight and there were screams from the outside. When the doors finally opened on the lowest level of the tower, Darcy finally understood what it was like to stand on the outside of chaos. The room was filled to the brim with rushing people—people who were doing their best to keep systems online and the civilians safe. Ducking down, Darcy crawled from out towards a huddled group, spying Jane amongst them.

"I told you we should have stayed out of the city!" She called above the sounds of yelling.

Jane rolled her eyes, "You know I couldn't stay away, not while I knew he was back."

"Have you seen him?" Darcy asked as they moved together towards a corner.

Jane nodded, "Just for a second. He apologized for not telling me. I told him he'd pay for it later."

Darcy had no doubt that he would pay for keeping his presence here a secret in the most devious way. Jane could be seriously inventive when it came to getting back at someone she thought had wronged her, and for as long as they had been searching for a way to recreate the Bifrost, there would be hell to pay.

Making their way through the throng of people, the pair scooted along into an empty room where they could talk with some kind of privacy. Closing the door behind them, Darcy ran her hands through her now tangled hair. She slumped down in a chair with a sigh, wondering just how long this fight would last.

"Why aren't you wearing shoes?" Jane said, her brow furrowed.

Darcy rolled her eyes, "It's a really long story. Do you think we'll win?"

"I don't know," Jane replied with a small voice. "Here," she called out, turning on one of the computers and pulling up surveillance coverage from one of the cameras on the street.

Glancing down at her one-time boss, Darcy exclaimed, "When did you become a computer genius?"

Jane shrugged, "I watched one of the guys pull this up about an hour ago. You know, they really need to consider who is in the room when they are doing their top secret thing."

"Seriously," Darcy replied as she watched the woman work, manipulating the image so that they were able to see the street from several different angles. The team was fighting these transformer things that seemed built for massive destruction. Darcy watched as they shoved each other around, crushing cars and demolishing buildings as they went. There was a small part of her brain that absently calculated the sheer amount of money it would take to clean up the damage, let alone rebuild.

Darcy didn't know how long they sat on hard chairs, bent over the computer screen, watching the most epic fight she had ever seen. But, when it was all over, the news coverage spouted both love and hate for those who had stood up to take on the coming army of monsters. They called them heroes, they called them villains, and they called them Avengers. She leaned back eventually, sighing in relief that no one she loved (that no one Jane loved) had been killed in the massive uprising.

It took a few days for things to right themselves in Darcy's life, for things to get back into a routine that resembled something other than damage control. She went back to being the coffee girl during the day and holing up in her apartment at night. There was something about the experience of coming close to that kind of power that made her stop going out at night with her friends to get raucously drunk until the sun came up. Somehow, it didn't make seem like as much fun, didn't make her as happy as it used to. She tried going to a couple of dives, tried attending a concert, but all she wanted to do was get back home to her nice quiet apartment with her books and her computer and her blogs.

And still, though she tried it ignore during her conscious waking hours, Darcy recalled that moment in Tony's living room. There was no experience in her life that she could compare it to, and nothing afterwards seemed to measure up. In those few minutes alone with Loki, Darcy had never felt more alive, had never felt more in touch with who she was and the strangeness of it all had her running around the memory in an attempt to figure it out. She supposed it was the adrenaline, she conjectured that it was the danger, but she knew deep down that it was him.

Darcy kept remembering the touch his hands at the back of her neck, the smell of him as he leaned towards her. Every time those memories were inadvertently brought up, she would have to shake herself to come back to reality. She didn't like not having control over herself, especially with someone as dangerous and unpredictable as he was, and damned if she was going to admit that every guy who hit on her was now compared to him on every level. Her sex life, as a result, had been left in shambles, which totally sucked in the worst way.

In order to counteract her undersexed existence, Darcy threw herself into work, earning herself a desk job where she transcribed paperwork into the server. She still got sent on coffee runs, but the words 'thank you' got said a little more. Six months after half the city got destroyed, Darcy was minding her own business eavesdropping on a conversation in the next cubicle when her phone rang. She was being called down to take notes on some new information they were receiving.

"Ms. Lewis, if you'll follow me, please," came a voice from behind her. Agent Coulson looked tired and a little pale, having been in the infirmary for an extended stay while he healed. He wouldn't admit it, but Darcy had seen him rubbing at the still aching muscles of his shoulder when he thought no one was looking.

"Sure thing," Darcy replied with a smile. "Anything I need to know beforehand?"

Coulson considered her for a moment, his mouth pressed into a firm, but polite, line. "Only that we are now facing a new threat and we need someone to record some data."

"Just a normal day in the office," she drawled, grabbing her notepad and pen as she followed him to the main elevators. The ride down was filled with polite silence and though Darcy liked Agent Coulson fairly well, he intimidated her enough that she couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Why am I being asked to listen to top secret information, why not get one of your many devoted minions?"

Coulson glanced down at her with something that might have been amusement if his face would ever change expressions, "They are not minions, they are agents." He tapped a code into the keypad and the doors began to slide open. "And he asked for you, specifically."

Darcy stared after him as he moved forward, until she had to scurry through the doors to keep up, "What do you mean—," she stopped short as they approached a balcony that overlooked at vast interrogation room. Agents lines the walls, each armed to the teeth and every single one of the Avengers was staring at a central point. Loki sat casually at a white table, hands folded neatly in front of him as he waited. Thor was nearby, giving his brother the oddest look of confused frustration that she had ever seen.

"Oh," she breathed. "Well, that's a surprise."

Though she had said it very, very softly, it seemed that he had heard as Loki's eyes shifted upwards to look at her with a gaze that made her instinctively step back. Coulson reached over and pulled her along by the elbow, guiding her down a set of stairs to the floor where he ushered her into one of the two chairs opposite the man who had caused her to question her sanity many times over the last few weeks. Loki's eyes followed her every movement, though his body remained perfectly still and his expression gave nothing away.

In an attempt to look calm, cool, and collected, Darcy set her notebook in front of her, pen poised over the paper to take the notes they would need. Coulson settled in next to her and regarded Loki levelly.

"Tell us who started the epidemic," Coulson demanded in a deceptively soft voice.

Loki smiled and Darcy had to hold her breath for a moment as her heart kick-started in her chest.

"Now, Agent, that's quite a start to the interrogation." He paused for just a moment, "Don't you want to know what the epidemic is in the first place?"

Coulson leaned forward, "We can start wherever you like, but we'll end up right back at square one. But, do go on."

"How very accommodating of you," Loki replied lightly, and Darcy could see the slight change in posture, she shifting of tactics inside his head. She gripped the pen tighter in her hand and braced her feet against the ground, thankful that she had worn sensible flats that day instead of the heels she was beginning to favor.

"The epidemic, as you call it, is no more than a very advanced form of magic," Loki began, "Your people called it necromancy once upon a time." Darcy jotted down the word, unsure if she spelled it right but guessed that it didn't matter. "In short, your opponent is raising the dead to carry out his _intentions_." As the words rolled over his tongue, Loki's glance shifted over to Darcy for the barest of seconds and she had to drop her eyes down to the notepad to keep the blush from rising to her cheeks. Did he have to keep doing that, keep looking at her like she was something he wanted to devour her and saying things to her that made her confused at her own reactions?

Loki continued carefully, weighing words without really thinking about it, "It seems, however, this the magic had gotten a little… out of hand and the necromancer cannot even control his own minions any longer."

Darcy had the urge to shove at Coulson—the bad guy had minions, why couldn't they?

"And what is the necromancer's name?" Coulson asked, as if magic and the living dead meant nothing to him.

Loki smiled, "Lucan." From across the room, Thor gasped in surprise. "Of Asgard."

As Darcy wrote down the name, Coulson leaned back in his chair, contemplating whether or not to believe the so-called god of lies. "You know this Lucan?"

Loki smiled, "Yes, I know him. He is—was—my teacher and a very powerful magician."

"How do we stop him?"

"You can't," Loki replied with some conviction. "His powers are unparalleled and he now has a veritable army of undead humanity to distract you."

Thor stepped forward, nimble despite his large body, "Loki, you know Lucan better than anyone here." There was a heart wrenching sincerity in his voice as he issued the next sentence, "You must help us defeat him."

Loki's dark brows came together as his expression hardened, "You expect me to aid you after all of this?" He waved and arm out to the legion of weaponry surrounding them. "You expect help after turning me over to the Allfather for punishment?"

"A punishment you deserved after you tried to take over Midgard," Thor bellowed. "A punishment I relieved you of when we discovered this new threat and knew you could help."

"So this is your agenda, Thor? I save this… realm and I'll be pardoned for my sins?" The sarcasm fairly dripped from his voice as venom and Darcy suddenly felt like a voyeur in their shared experience.

Thor held his hands palm up in front of his body, "Please, brother, help us win this."

Darcy didn't know if it was the painful plea in his voice or if Loki actually had some semblance of feeling for his brother, but he seemed to relent, his eyes dropping to his still folded hands. "The magic, itself, is unstoppable. Once the victim is, for lack of a better word, infected with it, there is no turning back."

Coulson leaned on a folded hand, regarding the situation with a quiet expression, "How do we stop the magic?"

"You stop the magician," Loki replied as if it was the easiest thing in the world. "But at this rate and without proper training, you'll never get close."

"Then you'll show us how to get close," Tony interrupted, flicking imaginary dust from his suit jacket. "We'll flush this thing out and beat the bad guy, kind of like what we did with you."

From beside her, Darcy heard Coulson sigh. "Mr. Stark, if you would please keep from interrupting our interrogation."

Tony held his hands up, leaning back against the wall in resignation. "It's your ballgame, Agent."

"Thank you," Coulson replied. "Now, Loki, if you would educate us on how to defeat Lucan."

Loki shrugged, "I cannot. I'm sorry, but I cannot."

"Can't or won't, Loki?" Coulson asked with a deadly edge.

"Can. Not. Agent Coulson," Loki intoned lowly, his voice rough with challenge. "There are hundreds of spells in the necromancy arsenal and without direct contact, I cannot determine which is being used."

"Define direct contact," Coulson shot back quickly, checking Darcy's note in an almost absent gesture of nonchalance.

Loki rolled his eyes, "I'll need one of the infected, preferably fresh."

Coulson nodded, "That we can do, Loki. I'll have one for you in forty-eight hours."

"Excellent," Loki replied coolly. "Anything else you'd like to ask me?"

"I think we're done for now," Coulson asserted, glancing at Darcy. "We've got rooms at the facility for you. I hope you'll find them comfortable."

"I'm sure I will," Loki remarked casually and she wasn't sure whether or not he was being serious or sarcastic. "Until next time."

As a pair of guards led him from the room, Darcy considered whether or not his final words were meant for Coulson or for her—maybe a mixture of both. She looked down at the handful of words that filled the page of her notepad, confused. He went hot and cold with her, searing her with gazes and words while simultaneously ignoring her very presence. Darcy wondered if she was reading far too closely into his words and actions, but hadn't he 'specifically' requested she be there for the questioning?

Coulson walked her back to the elevators, guiding her inside, "What is your relationship with Loki?"

"What?" Darcy croaked, spinning to face him.

"You heard me," Coulson asserted as he pressed the 'stop' button on the wall. "He tries to take over the planet, wages war against an entire realm of people, and during the first and only set of questions he answers for _weeks_, Loki asks for you, Darcy. Tell me that doesn't strike you as strange."

"You're fucking right, it does," Darcy barked back, covering her mouth as soon as the words left her lips. "I'm sorry. I just… we only spoke, like, five words to each other during that battle with the alien guys. I don't know what he wants with me."

Coulson seemed to believe her, placing both hands on her shoulders in a gesture that could have been sympathetic if she weren't thinking of the many varied ways in which he could kill her in this position. "You have a lot of potential here at Shield, please be careful."

"Will do, boss man," Darcy replied. "Besides, I don't mean anything to someone like him. I don't mean anything to anyone here."

Coulson's face dropped a little, the lines around his eyes tightening with strain, "You know very well that's not true. Don't lie to yourself."

With that, he reached back and started the elevator again. They rode to the floor of offices and though Darcy stepped out, Coulson stayed behind, giving her a stiff nod as the door closed. The rest of Darcy's work day was filled with little glances at the notebook by her computer and several typos in her memos to staff. She counted the minutes until she could walk through the front doors and hide in her little apartment five blocks away, hoping that the little bit of space between them would clear her mind of the confusion surrounding Loki and his familial issues, his vague intentions, and the fact that he had agreed to help Earth despite the 'punishment' he had received. A small, sick part of her wished she could know what he had been doing the last few months, but she body slammed it into submission, shoving it aside so that she could get some damn work done in peace.

Glass of wine in hand, Darcy sat at her computer, scrolling through her dash with mild disinterest, reading various articles on world events that suddenly had no real meaning for her. With an exaggerated sigh, she closed the laptop and emptied her glass. Then, she padded out of her living room, flicking lights off as she went. Tired as she was, it took her a moment too long to realize that there was another person in the room with her, but that didn't keep her from screaming bloody murder when she spotted him.

"Jesus Christ, Loki, what are you doing here?" She exclaimed, throwing one of her pillows at him.

He caught it easily, tossing the bit of fluff to the side with a smile that was almost charming had it been any other situation. "Have I scared you?"

Darcy shot a wilting look at him, one hand on her hip, "Don't sound so damn pleased with yourself. Yes, you scared me, but honestly any creeper in my bedroom would have scared me."

He shrugged, and for the first time Darcy realized that he was wearing clothing that was normal—a button up shirt and slacks, all in black. Loki looked like any other human being, except she absolutely knew the kind of power that lay dormant inside him, waiting for the opportune moment to rear its magical head. Speaking of heads, Darcy's head was a little fuzzy about why she hadn't gotten her taser out and used it.

"What are you _doing_ here?"

"Can I not visit a friend?" He replied simply.

Darcy paused, "I didn't know we were friends. I thought you didn't like humans."

His smile was small, but noticeable, "True, as a general rule. But, I like you."

She didn't know what induced her to ask why, but the word slipped out nonetheless. It boggled her mind that he was even here, let alone not killing her in this exact moment. Loki didn't have a good reputation for not killing people and every second she spent unsupervised with him was a moment where irreparable harm could be done to her body. Could she even get to her taser in time?

Loki stepped forward, hands in the pockets of his slacks, "I wouldn't, if I were you."

"Wouldn't what?" She feigned innocence.

He shook his head, "Darcy, let's not fight."

"Who is fighting? We're not fighting," Darcy replied, her voice rising dramatically.

"Darcy," He drawled, the two syllables drawn out in supplication. "Do keep calm."

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Darcy shrugged, "I'm calm. I'm the epitome of calm. I am so zen right now."

Loki changed tactics, lifting his hands from his pockets and showing the palms to her, approaching with measured steps. When he reached the threshold of her safe zone, he sidestepped her and sat gingerly on her bed, patting the space beside him. When she didn't immediately respond, he tilted his head to the side, patting the blanket again.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said with a smirk. Again, he spoke her name with this tone that had her easing onto the bed beside him, despite her misgivings.

"What are you here for?" She felt stupid asking the question, but she was tired and she needed him to be forthcoming with her for once.

Loki laced his fingers together, "How much do you know about magic?"

She shrugged, "I'm going to go with nothing."

"Ah," he replied, nodding silently. "How much do you know about the outer realms?"

"That'll be nothing for one hundred dollars, Alex," Darcy answered with a wry smile. When he glanced over at her in confusion she clarified, "I know nothing about your people, your culture, or anything information that can't be found on the internet."

With a sudden movement, Loki stood, turning to face her. "I want to try an experiment."

Darcy looked up at him from her seated position, "Will I like this experiment?"

Loki's returning expression seared her through and through and she had to look down to make sure her skin wasn't bubbling beneath her t-shirt. Reaching down, he lifted her to standing, his hands folding over her elbows and holding her in place. "Be very still."

Honestly, Darcy couldn't have moved if she wanted to because her senses were suddenly filled with his scent and the heat of his body. She was all of a suddenly aware of every pore of her body filling with a warm oozing sensation of pooling honey, sweet sugary sensation flooding her. Shaking her head, Darcy made herself focus on what Loki was doing—which, as it turned out, wasn't a lot. He simply gazed at her very intently, his fingers curled around her elbows.

As if from nowhere, something flashed behind her eyes, jerking her to full attention. When she tried to pull away, Loki held her tighter.

"Be still, I'm experimenting," he said in explanation.

Darcy's brows lifted, "Well, you're screwing up the scientific method. I haven't even heard your hypothesis yet."

Loki chuckled, "Patience, lovely mortal, all will be revealed shortly." Another flash zoomed across her consciousness, followed by another and another, until Darcy was reminded of a rave she'd gone to in high school. Breath pulsing through her lungs, Darcy had to return Loki's grip with one of her own, digging her nails in the fabric of his shirt. Loki hissed lightly, extricating him arms from her and adjusting his hold to wrap his arms around her hips. The flashing lights continued for several more seconds until the world came back into focus. Darcy had to swallow several times to keep from vomiting all over the expensive feeling fabric of his clothing.

"What the hell, dude?" She wheezed, her face buried into his chest as she got her bearings.

Loki chuckled and she felt more than heard his answering sigh, "Would you like to lie down?"

"Yep," Darcy replied, stepping back to the bed and falling down upon it in the least graceful way possible.

Loki sat near her, "Feeling better?"

"I'll feel awesome when you tell me what you were doing?" She said lowly, opening her eyes to give him a baleful glare.

It might have been her imagination, but Darcy thought she saw a bit of pink tinge his cheeks as he moved to rest on his elbow. "An experiment."

"And your conclusion was…"

"Positive," he replied with a smirk.

"Oh, my god," Darcy breathed in annoyance, flinging one hand over her eyes, which ached a bit from his 'experiment'.

Loki's smirk widened to a full toothy grin, "Indeed."

She groaned, "You can't sit there and hold out on me after practically giving me a seizure with your acid trip light show."

"Very well," he replied, helping to ease her into a sitting position. "Magic is a complex and vast system of manipulation that involves far more of your Midgardian science than myth and legend. To practice and master it, the body of the person who wields the spells, themselves, modifies itself to accommodate the advanced neurological changes. When I saw you standing there with that ridiculous expression on your face, barely holding on to the coffee in your hand, something up here," he gestured to his head, "Fired off so violently that I almost fell over. I have never felt anything like that before and it made me curious."

Darcy blinked up at him, "Oh. Okay, so you performed your experiment. Are you satisfied?"

"Not in the least," Loki replied easily. Darcy wondered if this was some kind of ruse to get in with Shield and create some kind of informant system. Honestly, though, she wasn't important enough to be a spy for anyone other than the local gossipmonger. It just didn't make any sense that someone who was so out of her league would find her a curiosity and her skeptical brain had a hard time wrapping around his explanation.

"I don't believe you," she whispered. "This is absolute insanity." Then, because the urge to change the subject had absolutely overtaken her, "How did you get out of Shield's offices?"

"If I can manage to duplicate myself ad infinitum, I think I can manage a few locks and guards," he replied dryly, seemingly offended by her question.

"Right," she replied. The room grew silent and for once Darcy couldn't bring herself to say just anything to him to keep the silence at bay. She fiddled with the hem of her t-shirt and wished she was wearing something other than old worn pajamas. Here he was, all dressed up and looking like a Disney prince for all intents and purposes and she couldn't even be bothered to wear something that matched. Which brought her to yet another question—

"Do you often drop in unexpectedly on young women you find interesting?" She asked, "Because, let me tell you, a taser is the least of your worries with some of the girls I know." Darcy flashed to the pistol Natasha had brandished the one time she interrupted her training session.

Loki had the good grace to look a little embarrassed at her question, "Ah, no. This is a first for me."

"Me, too," Darcy replied with an indulgent smile. "But, just for the sake of my well being, let me know when you're coming over next time, okay? My heart almost stopped when I saw you creeping over there."

Loki nodded, "For the sake of your fragile heart, mortal, I will acquiesce."

"Thank you," Darcy replied primly. "You know, Coulson's pretty interested in what you want with me," she said with as much nonchalance as she could manage. Then, she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "He's very curious."

"Then, I'll give him something to be curious about."

***hides* Not certain if this is as good as PTK, but I wanted to explore a different kind of Darcy/Loki relationship where Darcy is a bit more flighty and Loki pursues. **

**Reviews=Love, my ducklings.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Onward!  
**

Darcy spent two days in a kind of daze where she went over the memories of Loki's visit many times, both incredulous and excited all at the same time. She also spent a good amount of time glancing at the elevator, expecting Coulson to come barreling in with questions. Though she hadn't technically done anything wrong, there was something illicit in her dealings with the would-be conqueror of the world she knew and loved. Keeping the secret wasn't exactly difficult since she was still largely ignored by most of the staff, but it in no way diminished her penchant for smiling in the quiet moments of her work day.

On the second day, Darcy ripped her tights on a sharp outcrop of her desk that stung a little but didn't tear her skin. After patching the sharp corner with electrical tape to keep it from happening again, she headed towards the bathroom to remove the ruined garment. As she checked for panty lines in the mirror, Darcy flattened her too frizzy hair into some semblance of control and straightened the pencil skirt around her thighs. With a multitude of years in sweat pants and hoodies under her belt, it felt somehow liberating to be in a sharp skirt and heels. Darcy, in some way, felt like a grown up with a big girl job, complete with benefits, and she found herself feeling both proud and happy for this curious turn of events in her sad, strange life.

Stepping from the bathroom, Darcy nearly slammed into Agent Coulson, who stood waiting patiently just outside the door.

"Darcy," he said, without a hint of apology. "You're needed in the lab."

Face scrunched, Darcy regarded him for a moment before nodding, "More notes?"

"Not exactly," he replied, turning and indicating that she should step ahead of him. Teetering a little on her heels, Darcy headed down a now familiar path to the elevators, waiting for Coulson to tap out the code to take them to the levels way above her security clearance. It occurred to her in an absent way that there was no elevator music playing in the background, just the hum of the motor as the carriage moved. It made for an awkward ride down into the depths, past the interrogation rooms to the super secret lab run by the brothers in science, Tony Stark and Bruce Banner.

Darcy had never met either, but that didn't seem to matter because, as always, she was ignored as Coulson guided her to the back of the room and through a set of doors. In the center of the medical lab was an examination table and on that table was the most grotesque, achingly disgusting thing she had ever seen. It looked almost human, or as if it had probably once been human, but the disfigurement, the sheer degeneration of skin and bones was enough to make her doubt that assumption. Loki stepped forward from seemingly out of nowhere, his face giving nothing away.

"Thank you, Agent. That will be all," He said with a dismissive way of his hand, waiting patiently for Coulson to consider if the fight was worth it. Darcy shrugged at the older man, not sure if her opinion meant much of anything to him.

Once alone, Loki urged her forward so that they stood side by side next to the body. "This is necromancy at its worst."

"Smells like my high school biology lab," Darcy commented softly. "Looks even worse."

Loki chuckled, "It's human, or was, once. The spell is complex and very old, older than any book I have read. Lucan has truly outdone himself."

Darcy swallowed even as her stomach lurched inside her body, "You were friends with him."

"He was my mentor. He taught me everything I know about magic."

"Even your little experiment?" Darcy quipped with a smile. She had so many questions about what had happened between them, wondering if it meant anything or if he was simply toying with her.

"Yes, even that," he pulled her along to the opposite side of the room, smiling indulgently. "If you'll grant me one more 'experiment'?"

Darcy rolled her eyes, "I'm not certain I could deny you."

"Could you not?" He asked, his voice softening in question. His gaze was direct, urging, and searching all at the same time. Darcy found herself immobilized by the sudden vulnerability that he seemed to only show when within inches of her. The flashes of light pulsed behind her eyes again, but this time in a more controlled manner that left her feeling slightly dizzy, but able to remain standing. Loki, as if sensing that they could not have possibly been left alone without surveillance, stepped away and back towards the body.

"Wait right there, don't move." And then the most interesting thing happened. As he stood over the body, arms held out, palms down, the fluorescents began to flicker and something strange filled the room, tightening the very molecules of air into tiny beads. From there, the lights that had been flashing behind her eyes poured out and she could see the many varied flows of air that moved from Loki's palms down over the body lying dead on the table. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Darcy came to the conclusion that this was what magic looked like in the physical form. This was what Loki's magic looked like when in full use of his power, and holy hell it took her breath away.

It lasted only a few brief moments, but for those bare seconds, Darcy was held in suspended disbelief as she watched the swirls of energy fade and disappear from sight. She blinked at the now empty space, wondering if Shield had gotten that on tape so she could make sure that what she saw was actually real. Loki lowered his hands, bracing them on the side of the table as his face took on a thoughtful, intense expression.

"What is it?" Darcy asked, unable to help herself.

Loki shook his head, "It is worse than I thought." He looked up at her and she was struck by the fierce contrast of his skin, hair, and the color of his eyes—all striking in and of themselves but, put together, creating a picture that could not have been real.

Darcy inched forward in curiosity, careful on her heels, "How much worse? Like, total apocalypse, worse?"

"Your people should evacuate the major cities, worse," Loki intoned, his head lowering to examine the arm of the body in closer detail.

Surprised, Darcy said the first thing on her mind, "Well, shit. How are we supposed to do that without causing worldwide panic?"

"Let us deal with that," Coulson interjected from near the door. He turned to Loki, "Can it be stopped?"

For a moment, annoyance flashed across Loki's face, "I believe I have already answered that question."

Coulson nodded, "We can get the city empty in a week, if the weather holds nicely. Our technicians have zeroed in on a four block radius that may be the epicenter. I have agents scouring the area for more infected."

Darcy held up a hand, "Um, can someone let me in on what we're dealing with here? What are these things?"

Half expecting to be told that it was above her clearance level, Darcy was sure as hell surprised when Coulson launched into an explanation. He went over the symptoms of the infection—deterioration of the skin, and major organs, stripping of the major functions of the brain, and regression of the mind to basic instinct—that was, to fight and kill every living thing within ten feet of the infected victim. As an afterthought, Coulson pulled up video on one of the nearby screens, and Darcy's jaw dropped as her mind caught up with what she was seeing.

"So, you're saying that we are having," she spit out the words because they were just so freaking ridiculous, "A zombie apocalypse."

Coulson looked at her with disdain, but nodded, "Essentially."

There was a beat of silence, and then Darcy burst out in uncontrollable laughter, "This is awesome!"

"Darcy, I don't think mass extinction is something to be laughing about," Coulson reprimanded gently, though she could see an eerie light in his eyes.

"No, no, no," Darcy replied through heaving breaths, "It's just… we're _so_ prepared for this, it's not even funny."

"Please explain," Loki said in a tone that she was quite sure hinted at facetious.

Sighing dramatically, Darcy grabbed his hand and marched through the doors into the lab, calling out to the two men hard at work doing science-y stuff that she would probably never understand.

"Mr. Stark, what do you do in the event of a zombie apocalypse?" she asked.

Tony shrugged, "Hide in my massive house and use the plethora of arms in my basement to fight off intruders."

Rolling her eyes, Darcy turned to the more timid of the pair, "Mr. Banner, please tell us what normal people would do in the event of a zombie apocalypse."

Setting down his tools, Bruce considered the question, "I would think they would head down to the local Wal Mart and block off all the exits. Though, I'm sure there are loads of people who would be out fighting for the sheer joy of it."

"Exactly," Darcy exclaimed, turning to Loki, "There are people out there with contingency plans, vaults, and arsenals of weapons that would literally _die_ to be able to fight an actual zombie."

Loki gave her a doubtful expression, "You're sure?"

"Absolutely," Darcy replied emphatically, pulling at little on his hand to emphasize her point. "If the world is going to end, this is the perfect way to do it."

Even though his eyes narrowed, Darcy could see the hint of a smile that he was failing to hide and she knew that he was on the same page, laughing along with her at the morbid humor of the situation at hand. Coulson cleared his throat and Darcy realized that, perhaps, holding the hand of a reformed crazed murderer was probably not the best thing to do at this juncture in time. Blushing, she stepped away and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"What do we do now?"

Coulson pulled his phone from his pocket, "Well, the numbers of the infected are low at the moment and we're doing alright herding them away from the public, but if Loki is right and Lucan has lost control over his magic, we're looking at exponential increases in size over the next few days. Stark, Banner, you'll need to be prepared for a fight, after a debriefing, of course."

Tony looked positively gleeful, "I do believe that this is my dream come true."

"Right!" Darcy exclaimed, wondering at how many of her internet friends she could get in on the actions. "I am so pumped for this."

Coulson shot her a disparaging look, "You're not going to be here for the fight, you're going to one of our safe houses."

"Coulson," Darcy whined, "This is the coolest thing that has ever happened to the earth and you're sending me away!" She folded her hands in front of her, pleading, "I can be useful, I promise. I've got lots of connections on the net and I'm sure I can help. Please, please, please." Darcy was laying it on thicker than molasses, but she didn't care because there was no fucking way she was missing out on this.

"Absolutely not," the agent replied as he typed out an email on his phone.

Darcy pulled the lowest trick in the book, knowing it was wrong but not caring. She stuck out her lips and widened her eyes, allowing them to water just enough that the tears shone in the light but didn't spill over her cheeks. "Please," she croaked.

Coulson sighed, lowering the phone, and she knew she had him, "Alright, but you'll do exactly as I say when I say it. Got it?"

"Hell yes!" She called out, throwing a fist in the air. Twenty minutes later, she was riding in a black on black SUV with Coulson, making her way back to her apartment to pack a bag for her extended stay at Shield. Coulson was moving her into a set of guestrooms at the offices for the foreseeable future. In less than a week, the whole of the city would be evacuated while the Avengers set about taking down the increasing numbers of the infected and Loki worked to locate and stop Lucan. Coulson believed him to be hiding in the sewer system, which was _so_ gross, but Loki looked disbelieving as they considered their options. In any case, Darcy would be relocating for a while, safely ensconced in a government facility while the rest of the world was left exposed to an infection of magic that no one could possibly see or defend themselves against.

Loki had stayed behind with the zombie body, stating that he had more tests to run on it—for which she was fairly relieved. He made her nervous, made her flustered. At one time he had called them friends, but Darcy was skeptical, not sure if 'friends' was exactly the right title and having no other to offer up in its stead. Folding her hands in her lap, Darcy thought about how things went fuzzy when he touched her, how he went from murderous to friendly in the blink of an eye, and how (against all her prior conceptions) he had sought her out of all the people in the world. It didn't hurt that she thought he was completely gorgeous and she had to stop herself from giggling like some infantile schoolgirl, complete with angst ridden sighs. Darcy had never been one to pursue a man, had always been the pursued, and it irked her that she didn't have the control in the relationship—if that was what it could be called.

As she packed her duffel, Darcy considered the things that she would need, forgoing any of her party dresses for sturdy jeans and tank tops. It didn't seem like there would be time for merrymaking when they were fighting the apocalypse, zombie or otherwise. Still, she couldn't leave behind her favorite little black dress and black patent leather pumps. They had cost her an entire paycheck and she couldn't leave them behind, in case the whole world went up in flames. Pulling open the drawer of her dresser, Darcy drew out her photo album and a few of her favorite books, unable to overcome her own sentimental value. She stuffed them in her duffel with a couple dozen pairs of underwear and socks, her best bras (both sexy and sporty), and a bracelet her father had given her before he died. After that, there didn't seem to be much more that she could bear to walk away with, not with Coulson standing in her doorway, urging her to get a move on.

Her rooms were bare and Spartan, but Darcy used a few mementoes and scarves to liven the dull atmosphere. She did her best to consider it hers, but there was simply nothing like one's own home and she was eager to get back to her little place on the corner, with its pizzeria across the street and noisy babies down the hall. No sooner had she settled in did Coulson stop by her door and tell her to pack up her desk, she was moving downstairs. Obediently, she made her way to her usual work space and shoved her myriad of knick-knacks into a box; waving to people she barely spoke to, shuffling into the elevator next to Coulson. He tapped a code into the keypad and folding his hands in front of him while they waited for the doors to close.

Darcy leaned over, "Mind telling me why I'm being moved?"

"I need a secretary," he replied simply.

Her brows lifted, "And you think I fit the bill?"

Coulson shrugged, "You're as good as any."

"Ain't that the truth," Darcy murmured, following him out onto a floor of offices she had never seen before, ducking around the corner after him as his longer legs moved so much faster than her heeled feet. Tapping an empty desk, Coulson indicated that she should unpack, sliding around another desk across the room and flicking on the monitor of the computer. Darcy pulled out her notepads and stapler, eyeing him as he worked. She managed to busy herself for about twenty minutes with arranging her desk for maximum efficiency before she had to settle for sitting very still in her chair, staring at him incessantly.

Darcy had to hand it to him; Coulson was a master at ignoring her blatant focus on him, working through a three inch stack of paperwork without breaking a sweat or saying a word. It became a little game to see how long she could hold her stare while he worked—and she was totally winning until the urge to pee hit her hard. Discreetly, she crossed her legs, holding it as best she could while trying to continue her little game.

"Down the hall to the right," Coulson said, not looking up from his desk.

"Oh, thank god!" Darcy called out, rushing from the room. By the time she got back, Coulson had seemingly finished his work and was resting against the front of his desk.

"Feeling better?"

"Feeling wonderful," Darcy replied with a smile, "What's up?" Because obviously something was up. Coulson had that look on his face that could only mean something big was up.

He glanced down at the floor, and then back up at her, his face hardening, "The infection of humanity is a serious matter, Darcy. While you're working with us on this, I need you to treat it as such."

Darcy smiled, understanding where he was coming from, but unable to keep from taunting him a little, just for kicks. "Sure thing, Agent _Dad_."

Coulson smirked, "Believe me, if I were your father, you would be far, far away from here."

"I know, boss man, I know. But, I can help, and you know it or you wouldn't have let me stay. So, let's just watch each other's backs and we'll make it out of this just fine and dandy." It was probably the corniest thing she could have said in the moment, but it was honest and she meant it. They had the finest team of specialists in saving the world on their side, and they had an Ace in the hole with Loki's knowledge of their opponent. In her book, that made them mighty.

The thing about preparing for a zombie apocalypse is that no one tells you how extraordinarily boring it is in reality. Darcy's head lolled as she scanned the company records for blueprints of the sewer system. The city was, quite frankly, a Mecca to the resident homeless, if they knew how to navigate the winding tunnels. In the back of her mind, Darcy recognized that this was busy work and that the real action was being taken over by professionals, but it felt nice to be doing something other than imputing data. She had always been a bit of a computer junkie, even in college when her classes often took her in the opposite direction. Computers had rules she could manipulate and systems she could warp to suit her needs. There was nothing she couldn't do when she had a computer in front of her, nowhere she couldn't go, and that made her tiny life in the middle of a big city bearable.

Using one of Tony's many prototype software programs, she was able to create a three-dimensional model of the hidden pathways and overlay it with the city buildings above. She plotted a few courses that would allow a team to sweep the maximum amount of area and then used a distance system to calculate the time needed to check the tunnels on foot. By the time she got to her rooms that night, Darcy felt more accomplished than at any point previously in her employment. Her model was a thing of beauty for her, and she was damn proud.

The next day, while she tweaked the model to accurately represent dead ends and the size of the exits and entrances into the tunnels, Darcy looked up, surprised to see Loki lounging with a smile in Coulson's chair. She smiled and sat back into her own swivel chair, setting the stylus down.

"Hi," she said quietly. "Finally finished with the body?"

Loki's expression softened, "For the moment."

Lifting a brow, Darcy leaned forward on her forearms, "And? Any conclusions?"

"Some," he replied, "All bad, I'm afraid."

"Damn," Darcy whispered. "I was hoping for something a little more positive than that." Swinging around, Darcy pushed to standing and circled her desk. Taking a cue from Coulson, she rested back against it, bracing her hands on either side of her hips. Loki shrugged, sliding out of Coulson's chair and sauntering over with even, measured steps. In a flash of memory, Darcy was reminded of his very first approach, was reminded of the dark villain inside him. It was a credit to her sudden feelings of zen that she didn't flinch and fall over.

As he walked, she could see those mercurial slides of his expression, the way in which he took her in with short leaps of calculation and observation. No one had ever looked at her quite like Loki did, with curiosity and the intent to master. It was as if she was some kind of puzzle, or logic game, and he was trying to find the key so that he could solve her. Darcy never quite thought of herself as a complex individual, she was an open book and for the most part, what people saw was what they got. Yet, in Loki's eyes, Darcy could see reflected back to her a myriad of Darcy's that manifested the many possibilities before her. In Loki's eyes, Darcy could be anything other than a young woman who hadn't quite figured her life out yet. What an interesting coincidence that she could now see the possibility of her being a bad-ass zombie hunter in the making.

"May I see you tonight?" He asked, stopping a foot or so in front of her as he waited for her answer.

Darcy lowered her eyes, thankful that he had at least given her the heads up this time and she wouldn't mistakenly electrocute him with the taser by her bed. "Okay, yeah," she replied, not wanting to sound too enthusiastic.

Loki shifted on his feet, moving to stand beside her in a mirror to her position, "Agent Coulson seems very… protective of you."

Darcy chuckled, "He's just trying to keep me from screwing things up, which is probably what would happen if I were to run amok in this place. I don't know if you've noticed, but I tend to be exactly where I shouldn't be, right when I shouldn't be there."

Sharp jaw tilting back, Loki rolled his eyes in response. "You're exactly where you should be, Darcy. I can't imagine how you could be differently. Besides, there's no harm in a little mischief now and again."

"And you would be the sole authority on mischief, wouldn't you?" Darcy taunted lightly, giving him a gentle shove with her shoulder.

Loki returned the gesture with a wide smile, "I _am_ the sole authority on it, Darcy. The sooner you realize that, the better off you will be."

This time Darcy was the one to roll her eyes, "Then I concede to your prestige, oh god of mischief."

"As you should," Loki asserted smugly, reaching out to pat her thigh. On contact, Darcy saw the flashing lights that seemed to be a running theme in her life at the moment echoing behind her eyes. She squeezed them shut, shaking away the unsteadiness before returning her attention to the man beside her.

"Are you ever going to tell me what all of that," she gestured to her eyes, "is all about? Or am I going to have to keep guessing?"

Folding his arms across his chest, Loki tilted his head inquisitively, "I'd like to hear your theories, if you're willing to share."

Darcy dragged her eyes away from the hard pull of lean muscle along his arm and shoulder, biting her lip in thought as she spun through a couple of the theories she'd been contemplating for several days. It would make her unbearably mortified if he laughed at her, but then again, laughing was what Loki did. Still, she wanted to hold on to some of the pseudo-mystery of her personality in that she didn't want to reveal how much of a nerd she tended to be. She nixed the more bizarre of them, focusing on one she thought was pretty safe, considering they were standing in a building with at least seven superheroes.

Feeling unnaturally shy, she stalled for time, "Only if you tell me the truth after I've told you my theories. Quid pro quo and all that."

Loki nodded assent, a regal dip of his brow that Darcy was sure she'd never manage no matter how long she practiced in the mirror. What was it with him and these inhumanly graceful movements? It was as if he existed in an invisible pool of water and everything about his body floated ethereally. _Focus, Darcy, focus._

"Okay," she began, "You said that magic is like nerves firing in your brain, right. So, I thought that whatever this thing is like static electricity or something similar. I think that I just run on the same wavelength as you do and that makes things… interesting." Darcy finished her explanation lamely, dropping her gaze to the floor.

Loki pursed his lips, thinking for a moment, "You're not too far off, if I understand your Midgardian science correctly."

"Really?" Darcy asked, "Well, score one for Darcy."

His smile made her stomach flip in her belly and she felt the blush rising in her cheeks as unbidden thoughts of how many kinds of smiles he seemed to have and how she wanted to see more of them. Fuck. She didn't like this strange anxiety she felt when she spoke with him, didn't like that he listened so intently to her that she felt like she had to say something important. Darcy hadn't done well in her philosophy classes, and she hadn't done well in science or math, either. There didn't seem to be anything within her that could possibly impress him, and maybe he didn't want her to try.

The elevator across the way dinged to signal a visitor to her rather vacant floor of offices and Loki pushed from the desk. He was leaving, and Darcy wondered at how that could make her disappointed when she barely knew him. Not know what else to do, Darcy, too, pushed from the desk and straightened her skirt awkwardly. Loki's ever watchful eyes followed the movement, but his expression gave nothing away.

When Coulson stepped through the doors, Loki winked at her, "Until tonight."

He was gone before she could inhale to speak her reply, just in time for Coulson to turn the corner and give her a curious glance. Darcy shrugged, returning to her work.

"Send that model down to Natasha, if you would. She's choosing the routes for the team."

Chuckling, Darcy tapped a few places on her computer, sending the file down to Natasha's lair for inspection. With her luck, it would come back to her in thirty minutes covered in red marks for editing purposes. Natasha, unfortunately, was a stickler for details, and could spot something that was not quite right in seconds. It was part of what made the super spy so good at her job, and part of what annoyed the hell out of the rest of the team when they finally thought they had a plan together. As a result, Natasha had been put in charge of creating the mission plan and the rest of the team, having learned early on not to challenge the stern redhead, followed along quietly.

Coulson set another set of tasks in front of her, paperwork that had to be filled out on each of the major buildings in case they were demolished, and Darcy guessed that the likelihood of them making it out of this fight (if previous fights were anything to go by) was pretty slim. Again, Darcy was struck by how blatantly boring this was in light of the fact that a nerd's secret wet dream was actually happening around them. Here they were, gearing up to take down literal zombies and she was filling out insurance information. She glanced up at Coulson, wondering if this was his life every day, wondering if this was his job description. That didn't seem entirely possible—because she had seen Coulson fight once, and the guy kicked major ass. Maybe this paper pusher office guy was his super secret disguise, like Clark Kent and Superman.

Darcy hurried back to her rooms at the end of the day, checking over her shoulder surreptitiously as she opened her door. Once safely inside, Darcy hurried back to her bed room, throwing down her purse and toeing off her heels as she went. She dug through her bag for something suitable to wear—hell, was this a date? Did she dress up? Glancing at her black dress, Darcy considered it for half a second before tossing it aside, pulling out a tight pair of jeans and tank top. Nice, neutral clothes might instill a nice neutral atmosphere for their visit.

Plugging her ipod into one of the inset docks in the entertainment center, Darcy chose a movie score in another attempt to keep it neutral. Then, to her horror, she noticed that there wasn't a television in the room. Touching some of the walls, Darcy pressed on panels and tapped buttons to see if one would drop from the ceiling or rotate from the walls. Sighing, she sprawled on the couch, gaze lifting to the ceiling in frustration. There would be no distractions; it would be just her and him. _How_ was she supposed to keep him entertained? For goodness sake, she was only human and he was, like, a literal freaking god who somehow wanted to stop by for a friendly chat. Darcy almost wished he had killed her that first day, it would have saved her the trouble of dying from embarrassment tonight.

The knock, when it came, was firm enough to jar her out of her thoughts, sending her to her feet in an instant. Darcy padded over to the door and opened it, unsurprised to see Loki leaning against the jamb, gazing down at her.

"Come on in," Darcy said, "Welcome to my temporary digs."

Loki stepped inside and Darcy took a moment to right herself to the physicality of his presence once again. She pushed her hair behind her ears, gesturing to the couch.

"Have a seat."

"Thank you," Loki replied.

Darcy raised a brow as she sat, "Are you always this polite?"

He smirked, "Force of habit. My mother—," he paused abruptly and Darcy watched him force something either in or out of his mind before he continued. "My mother would—what is that expression Jane used—ah, 'box my ears' if I treated a lady with anything other than respect."

She laughed, propping her arm against the back of the couch and resting her head upon it. "I bet, but I'm not a lady. I mean, I totally don't have a title or anything."

Loki's expression folded in upon itself, "Titles aren't everything."

"True story," she replied. Then, "When did you see Jane? She's been MIA for, like, ever."

"She sends her regrets for not coming to see you as soon as she arrived," He asserted quickly, "I saw her in the hallways just now. It appears they are utilizing her for more _unconventional_ weaponry."

Darcy smiled knowingly, "Has she stabbed Tony yet?"

"Not yet, but the evening has just begun." Loki ran his hand along his jaw, touching the skin lightly, "Give it time."

There ensued a silence that seemed comfortable enough, but Darcy's irrepressible need to have something going on in the room forced her to speak eventually. "I'm sorry, there's really not much to do here. I don't even have board games to play."

Loki's eyes narrowed even as his smile grew and Darcy felt her body clench in a swift and forceful anticipation of the ideas that had to be swirling in his mind. Feeling brave, she held his gaze in challenge, deliberately lowering her chin to look up at him from beneath her lashes. He took her dare in stride, the muscles of his body relaxed in a way the belied the strength she knew lay at his core.

"You seemed curious this afternoon," Loki began, "About what happens when I touch you." When Darcy nodded, he continued, "Would you like to explore that now?"

Both of Darcy's eyebrows lifted, though she wasn't exactly surprised that they were back at this subject. She guessed, probably correctly, that this was new for both of them and that he was just a curious as she was as to how deep this rabbit hole went.

"That could be fun," Darcy replied in what she hoped was nonchalance, but it probably came out breathlessly.

Loki held out a hand, turning it over to indicate the space in front of him, "Come here."

Scooting forward, Darcy moved until her folded leg set inches from his hips, her hands tucked neatly in her lap. Loki made himself a little more comfortable, sliding down on the cushions of the couch so that she didn't have to crane her neck to look up at him while they talked.

Running a hand through his hair, Loki let out a soft breath that wasn't quite a sigh. "My people are not the only population who are acquainted with magic and its uses, and no one person uses magic the same way. However, there are a few basic laws that carry over no matter who is working the spells. It will not be necessary to explain everything to you, but one concept is achingly problematic."

Darcy was tempted to comment on the poetry of his words, but she thought it was best to let him keep talking as he didn't seem to do so very often. She wondered who else had sat with him like this, listening to him talk about the things he loved, the things that bothered him, and the things that made him happy. If his psychotic break was anything to go by, those instances were few and far between in his life. Unable to hear her sympathetic thoughts, he continued in an authoritative tone that reminded her of a professor in a lecture, speaking to a class of students.

"My people call it a magical 'affinity' and it is not exactly rare, but does not happen to everyone. Do you understand?"

She nodded, "I got it so far. Have you ever had an affinity happen with someone else?"

His expression turned serious, "No."

"Not with anyone?" Darcy asked, astonished. "I find that hard to believe."

"You find a lot of things hard to believe," Loki remarked off handedly.

She shrugged, "I probably shouldn't. I mean, I get to see things that most people couldn't even dream of. Nothing should surprise me, and yet I am constantly surprised and amazed at the things going on in this building."

Loki glanced off to the side, fingers drumming on his thigh, "Your perspective is… fresh."

She shrugged, "Just because I know all of this top secret stuff doesn't mean I get bored with the world."

"Admirable," he murmured gently. He then held his hand above the bare skin of her arm, "If I may?"

Darcy nodded, steeling herself for in change in consciousness that came with their contact. He dropped his fingers lightly to her forearm, the weight of his hand negligible compared to the bright flash of _something_ behind her eyes. She heard him urge her to concentrate, heard him walk her through the needed breaths that had suddenly stopped. After a few tense moments, Darcy was able to distinguish between the pale streams of light as they separated out into individual flows of power. She recognized the pattern as that of the physical manifestation of Loki's power in the medical lab. It pulsed inside her, peeling away the layers of her mental defenses until it intermingled with the heart of who she was.

When she was able to open her eyes, Darcy was amazed to see the flows of magic moving between them, entering through her clothing and spinning around to head back towards him. Her jaw hung open as she watched, her eyes wide and disbelieving. Licking her lips, she reached out between them and ran her fingers through one of the flows, disrupting it briefly. It seemed responsive to her touch, seemed responsive to her very being in that it pulsed around her skin, moving up her arm and around her shoulder. Everywhere it moved, the skin buzzed and shivered, the hairs along every pathway standing on end instinctively. She shuddered with a smile, tickled at what she was seeing.

Loki observed her silently, unmoving despite the interchange of magic moving around and through him. He tilted his head, "Can you take more?"

Head jerking up, Darcy fixed him with an excited expression, "There's more?"

His only response was a smile that was distinctly naughty. She hissed a little as the buzzing increased, forcing her limbs to tremble as it skirted around her, the colors becoming more vibrant as the unnatural lights of the room faded. The buzzing over her skin intensified so sharply that she gasped at the sensation, reaching out to grip his hand as it rested over her arm. She didn't wrench it away, though the thought was there to do so. As Darcy got control over her breathing, using the same techniques Loki had walked her through; she was able to face the forcefulness of the magic a little at a time.

Slipping from her grasp, Loki changed his grip, both hands folding over her palms to complete the circuit between them so that the magic flowed freely. Even behind her closed eyes, Darcy could see the mesmerizing wash of colors that reminded her of the watercolors on the walls of her childhood art class. There were mere impressions of objects and shadows bathed in prismatic globes of power, and even though she couldn't make out what they were exactly, it didn't stop her from looking at them intently and trying to figure out a pattern.

"More," she breathed, head dipping down towards her chest as she concentrated, fingers tightening with the feeling of it shifting inside and all around her.

Loki chuckled, sending more and more waves of power towards her, in tireless waves that crashed against her skin, sinking deep until they reached her bones. Darcy swallowed back a groan as she fought to subdue and control it, her mind reeling as it perceived more colors than humanly possible, more shapes and shadows than she had ever seen. With the small part of her brain that wasn't concerned with concentrating on the power, Darcy wondered if this was how gods perceived the world, if this is what they were capable of seeing every day. She'd be willing to bet that she would be blind halfway through the first day, if this were what she saw every day, beautiful as it was.

As he kept feeding her more and more power, Loki held her in bodily balance carefully, his hands keeping her from falling over to the floor below with ease. Darcy accepted as much of it as she could, until her mind simply ran out of energy, her stamina unable to hold up against his. She made one valiant attempt to keep pace, giving a final push to manage the power within her. The sensation, which up until that point had been incredibly pleasant and exciting, began to burn against her skin. It seared her through and through, bewildering her and throwing her for loop after loop. Instead of controlling the magic, it began to control her, shaking her from side to side and shoving her down rapids so quickly that she couldn't find her grip.

"Stop, stop!" She called out, "I can't."

Immediately, the surge of magic ebbed to nothing, leaving her leaning on their joined hands in an attempt to catch her breath. Between gasps, Darcy cleared her throat to speak.

"Next time we do this, we'll have to set some boundaries. That was… too intense." Darcy looked up at Loki's carefully constructed expression, "I'm only human, there's only so much I can take."

She felt him flinch, his hands tightening painfully around her own. His brows drew together over what looked like frightened eyes and Darcy couldn't quite figure out what he was thinking. His eyes lowered to their join hands, widening as if he had just begun to understand what had happened. Carefully, he extricated himself from her grasp, standing from the couch in a fluid movement Darcy had to squint at to catch.

"Are you okay?" She asked, reaching out to comfort him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Loki nodded jerkily, "I need to leave. I'm sorry."

Darcy watched him go, her eyes following the long strides and turns of muscle that carried him away from her without a backwards glance. For several minutes, Darcy sat on the couch, listening to the album on her ipod turn over to replay the album. When her side began to ache from the position, she yanked herself to standing and padded to her bedroom, shedding her jeans and climbing into the bed, still wondering at what in the holy hell had just happened.

**Hope y'all enjoyed this, my lovely readers. As always, reviews=love!**


	3. Chapter 3

**In light of some lovely reviews, I have decided to post this chapter a little earlier than I intended. I had thought to hold out for the weekend, but you guys were just so excited that I couldn't resist. Enjoy!**

She was late for work the next morning and even though she hurried, Coulson was waiting for her when she finally made it to her desk. In what could have been the most epic act of graciousness Darcy had ever received, he didn't reprimand her for her tardiness nor did he interrogate her as to her whereabouts. As she sat down to her computer, she looked across the way warily, waiting for him to say something. He merely gave her a nod and continued on with his paperwork. Darcy narrowed her eyes in suspicion as she reached for the papers in her inbox, nearly knocking over a tall cup of coffee. Catching it before it tipped over, Darcy looked up at Coulson, who had begun his standard practice of ignoring her while he worked.

"Did you get me coffee?" Darcy asked, holding it up in front of her.

Coulson glanced up, "No. It was there when I came in."

"If you didn't bring it for me, then who-?" Darcy's sentence stopped short when she noticed a small, stylized "L" near the bottom rim of the cup. She jerked, bringing the cup to her chest to hide the writing, but the agent had returned to his work without further comment. Turning the cup to push the lettering into her palm, Darcy brought the coffee to her lips, sipping at the slowly cooling beverage. Peppermint mocha with extra espresso—the man had earned serious cool points for this, possibly enough to wipe away the confusion from the night previous. Speaking of that…

She had gone over it a million times in her head and simply couldn't comprehend how she had messed up in the span of two or three seconds. And, she couldn't seem to forget that look on his face, all at once lost and enraged. Darcy had no idea that gods would be such emotional roller coasters, but, then, again, she only had Thor to compare him to—which probably wasn't the best idea because Loki still flinched when Thor was mentioned.

At lunch time, Darcy slid out from her seat and went in search of Loki. She checked the cafeteria and all the floors of offices she could access, not finding him anywhere. As a last, and probably desperate, resort, she keyed her security code into the elevator and tapped the laboratory floor button. To her ever loving surprise, the elevator moved almost immediately, swinging through the floors downwards until the doors opened at the lab. Tentatively, Darcy stepped out, glancing this way and that just to make sure there wasn't a squad of guards around to shoot her in the ass as she tip toed into the secured area.

An explosion boomed at the far end of the room, and Darcy instinctively ducked to avoid the flying debris. Standing, she peered through the smoke to see Tony Stark being blasted with water from one of his many robots. He spotted her and squinted, she waved awkwardly in response.

"Bad day?" She called.

Tony laughed, the piercing white of his teeth shining out from his dust addled body. "Good day, actually. Just working on some extra goodies for the most radical end of the world ever."

Darcy smiled widely, "Can I make a suggestion? Stay away from fire. We don't know what kills them and if we light them on fire, they just become walking glow sticks—on fire."

Cocking his head to the side, Tony looked as if he had never actually thought about it from that perspective. "Got any other ideas, short stack?"

"Why, so you can blow me up, too?" Darcy quipped, hand on her hip.

Tony shrugged, "Comes with the territory. 'Sides, you're the only other person in the facility who isn't taking this too seriously."

He had a point, it seemed like the whole world had, had a rod shoved up its ass over the last few days, but she supposed that the oncoming destruction of the planet would do that to a person. Maybe she wasn't taking it seriously enough, maybe she needed to buck up and do her part, maybe she needed to stop standing there like an idiot without saying anything.

"Whatcha say?" Tony said, his voice low and laughing, "Wanna kill zombies?"

Maybe she should just tell unconscious mind to shut up and go along for the ride. "Tony, do you even have to ask?"

"Great, come look at my drawings!"

Darcy chuckled at his obvious glee at being able to show off, but stayed him with a hand held up. "Just let me take a look in the medical lab and then I'll be right with you."

Quick steps carried her over to the back of the room and she leaned on the door, peering into the room. Her body slowed as she took in Loki's body bent over the examination table, sleeves rolled up and latex gloves on his hands that were holding an organ she definitely had never seen in bio. He set it aside, leaning further over the body to chest the open cavity in front of him. Darcy probably should have let him know she was here, she probably should have, like, cleared her throat or something, but the view from her perch was fan-fucking-tastic and she wanted to savor it for a few moments more.

Another loud crash from Tony's experiments grabbed his attention, and he looked up from the examination table. Darcy smiled, pushing from the door and approaching him, careful to keep from stepping in anything gross.

"So," she began, flicking her hair from her eyes, "I had a pretty awesome coffee waiting for me this morning. Happen to know where I could get another one?"

Loki smirked, straightening, "I could always behave badly and therefore necessitate another apology."

"Put a post-it on the behaving badly, but let's try to keep from needing to apologize to one another," Darcy retorted, pausing to glance at the dissected body. "Ew."

"My thoughts exactly," Loki said, nose scrunching a little. "But, it is presenting quite a bit of information—disgusting, useful information."

"I see," she murmured, "Do we know how to kill them?"

His shrug was loose and graceful, like every other movement, but his mouth pressed fitfully into a firm line that Darcy interpreted as mild frustration. She watched him pull the gloves off and toss them in the bio hazard receptacle, turning to remove the thick apron from over his clothes. Carefully, he folded it and set it aside before turning to face her.

"How are you feeling?"

Darcy blinked, unsure for a moment. "I feel fine, why?"

He stepped around the examination table, eyes dropping down over her form as if looking for injuries, "I pushed… a little too hard, I think. I forget how fragile you mortals tend to be."

"Hey," Darcy shot back in false insult, "We're tougher than we look. Just take a glance at Stark out there. Two explosions in the last ten minutes and he's still standing."

Standing might have been the wrong word as Tony was in fact leaning against one of his work tables, bent over with his hands on his knees as he dry heaved towards the floor. For half a second, Darcy really worried that he might be hurt, but when he noticed their concerned glances, he stood, whistling as he busied himself with writing notes on his latest malfunction. Darcy rolled her eyes, returning her attention to Loki, who wasn't even trying to hide the smile that was spreading across his sharply chiseled face.

"The man of iron notwithstanding, you are fragile," he remarked, reaching out to brush one pale finger against the line of her jaw. Darcy blinked against the faint and brief flash of magic, automatically working to control it even as he pulled away and the world righted itself again. Sliding onto a nearby chair, she regarded the Asgardian ruefully, wondering if she should spout off something about feminism and equality, and somehow knowing he wouldn't understand a lick of it. Instead, she settled for a soft, "I'm stronger than I look," letting him take it however he wanted.

Loki approached her, leaning down to gaze at her levelly. He was so close, she could see the individual colors in the iris of his eyes, the strange scars around his mouth—which led her along a very familiar path in which she wondered what he would taste like. She reigned herself in, chastising her body even as her mind caught up to the irrelevance of her present feelings.

"You may be strong, Darcy, but I am so much stronger," he breathed. "I could break you so easily, if I am not careful."

Darcy didn't doubt it, not for one minute. She had seen him throw Tony through a window, had seen video of his fight with Thor (who was _totally_ the strongest person in the world). Asgardian's, apparently, were stronger, faster, healthier than humans, and she couldn't possibly stand a chance against him, should he turn on her. Despite the obvious differences between them, perhaps _because_ of those differences, Darcy was fascinated by him. Loki was a batch of walking contradiction that was all at once friendly and fiendish, naughty and nice. She was, as a result, kept on her toes at almost all times, which was (oh god) so much fun. While she had never been a thrill seeker or an adrenaline junkie, Darcy definitely dug the ride and was totally okay with seeing where it went.

Internal monologue aside, Darcy had to force herself to remain in the moment, had to work to keep her breathing even as she started to feel his magic emanating from his skin. Out of reflex, she leaned forward, pulling at it greedily. She heard him chuckle, felt his hand slip around the nape of her neck to aid in the exchange of power. Eyes slipping closed, Darcy focused on regulating what was flowing into her and reversing the flow to send it in a closed circuit back to him. From inches away, he gasped, his other hand pressing against the opposite side of her neck, supporting her head as it rolled involuntarily back.

From behind her closed eyes, Darcy could tell the fluorescents were flickering but couldn't bring herself to care. The things that were occurring inside her were taking up almost all of her attention, occupying her mind even as it occupied her body. She pushed herself, drawing more and more of it towards her until she once again reached that threshold where pleasure merged with pain. Reaching out, she touched Loki's arm, whispering for him to stop. As before, the magic ebbed away, leaving that faint flash behind her eyes as they opened.

Loki's expression was guarded, but his hands remained at her neck, his body folded over her, above her. Darcy gazed up at him as she caught her breath, measuring her inhalations against his until they breathed in unison. With one final breath, Loki released her, and Darcy wobbled a little in her seat, her hands dropping to catch her balance.

"Wow," she muttered, more to herself than aloud.

"An apt appraisal," Loki remarked, running his hands through his long, dark hair.

Darcy rose carefully, testing her weight on her weak knees. She patted her hair surreptitiously; checking to make sure it was still in place and hadn't been shocked by the passing electrical current still ebbing away in her body. Shifting from foot to foot, her gaze dropped to the floor as she tried to think of something to say that wasn't completely inane. In her experience, men usually responded to a well-placed flash of skin and a wink, but Loki wasn't a man in the strictest sense and that left her floundering for something other than her usual kit and caboodle.

"I should probably let you get back to work," she said with an awkward smile. "We've apparently got a world to save—again." She flinched even as the words left her mouth, not wanting to remind him of his own failed attempts at world domination, but it seemed that Loki, too, could roll with the punches as he merely shrugged and slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

"I cannot say that anything I do with this," he gestured to the body, "Is going to help. Lucan's spells seem to be fast and lethal. I estimate the amount of dead already walking through your city is reaching the hundreds." His head tiled to the side in thought, "Your government is doing remarkably well at hiding this."

Darcy laughed, "It's the government, and it's what they do. I doubt this is the first time they've had to hide mass extinction from the general public."

That thoughtful gaze turned to her, pinning her in place with sharp, calculating eyes that were vaguely vicious. "You are very casual about the destruction of your people."

At that, Darcy shook her head sharply, her hair falling forward over her shoulder. "Freaking out isn't going to help the cause. I'll freak out after, if everything fails." She smiled, "I promise, I'll freak right on out, if you want to see it."

Loki considered the idea, tongue peeking out from between his teeth. Darcy had to press her nails into her palms in an effort to keep control of her traitorous bodily responses, barely managing to retain the appearance of indifference.

Finally, he commented, "I think we will save that for later."

_Later…_ The idea filled Darcy's mind with a plethora of possibilities that weren't all innocent, though some were tamer than others. She processed it and forced herself to move on because he certainly deserved more than her drooling over him for several minutes during every conversation. Bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, Darcy indicated Tony's still working form in the lab with a nod of her head.

"I should go help Tony out. He wants to show me his ideas for killing the zombies."  
Briefly, a shadow crossed Loki's face, but he corrected it quickly, replacing the dark expression with a small smile. "Do be careful. He's already destroyed three of his robotic servants."

Darcy lifted a brow, "I think maybe you should be telling Tony to be careful. I may be more trouble than I'm worth."

"I wouldn't say that," Loki replied with a kind of sincerity that made Darcy pause.

Unable to respond with anything remotely coherent, Darcy nodded sharply and headed back out into the lab, instinctively ducking her head in case of flying debris. Though covered in soot and ash, Tony paid his appearance absolutely no mind. He was, evidently, more concerned with several blueprints on his touch screen, that looked to Darcy's eyes, like some kind of elaborate pulley system. Crossing the room, she propped herself on one of the office chairs, resting her head on her hand as she observed. From Tony, she got no passing glance nor was she otherwise acknowledged while he continued to work for several long moments.

Then, he said, "It's a catapult."

Darcy's brows furrowed over her glasses, "A catapult. What are we going to do with a catapult?"

His expression was that of an indulgent parent, "We're going to fling zombies." The statement was said in the most matter of fact tone—he could have been reading from the phonebook for all intents and purposes. It brought an unexpected bout of laughter from Darcy's unwilling throat, nearly sending tears to her eyes. When she could breathe again, she caught Tony's self-satisfied grin as he set the parts on the models into motion. A computer generated zombie, complete with tattered clothing and bloody mouth, walked onto a platform, setting off a trigger that sent it hurtling into a fenced in area where a computer generated Hawkeye, complete with a pretty pink tutu, shot it from his perch.

Darcy watched the model play out a few times, amused, until Tony stopped it to tweak the set up.

"Don't you think it's a little… much?"

Tony's narrowed eyes made her want to take the words back, but the expression only lasted about half a second before it was replaced with yet another contortion of his face.

"You're right. Simple is probably better, given the time constraint—and Occam's razor."

Darcy didn't know a thing about razors, but whatever light bulb had gone off in his head started a chain of events that led to a whole new set up. He scraped the catapult and began working on something different, opting to keep the fence on the side. Interested in seeing his process, Darcy almost fell out of her chair when he queued up her model of the city, pulling different sections together into a kind of maze and throwing cars and buses into the corridors to funnel the zombies into the fenced in area where a computer Hawkeye, now in a tiara with long flowing hair, took them down with several well placed shots.

She pointed out a few spots that could use some maneuvering, pointed out where the hoard could break through glass, and very carefully mentioned the subject of bait. Tony took most of it in stride, his mind probably already four steps ahead of her, but letting her help nonetheless. Then, he sent the whole thing down to Natasha, who was probably still picking apart the first model—she _really_ needed to go check her email, in a minute, or an hour, whatever.

Seemingly satisfied with his work, Tony moved on, picking up a strange flat piece of metal and flicking it downwards with a snap of his wrist. It unfolded gracefully into a long, sharp sword and he swiped it through the air a few times, testing the weight. Darcy leaned back in mock horror as he swiped the sword nearby, though it missed her by several feet. He chuckled, folding the weapon back into its collapsed form.

"We need more effective weapons," he said wistfully, as if the prospect of designing something of that nature were perfectly normal. For him, it probably was.

Darcy shrugged, fiddling with the stylus on the desk, "We gotta know how to kill them, first. "

"Absolutely," Tony replied with a grin, his quick steps taking him across the room towards the medical lab where he called out to Loki, who looked none too happy to be interrupted. Stepping out of the inner lab, Loki looked to Tony in question.

Flicking a file away towards the largest screen in the room, Tony pulled up a surveillance video of a team capturing the zombie Loki had dissected. "Looks like bullets don't work on these little suckers," Tony began in a tone Darcy couldn't quite classify as snide. "So, what does?"

Loki rested one hip against a tall work bend, sliding his hands into his pockets, "Magic, for the most part. But, for you mortals, I suppose removal of the heart is perhaps best." His smile was, quite frankly, a little scary. "My test subject lacked one completely."

Tony gave Loki a long, surreal glance, and then his mind spurred into action, "Okay. Step one, eviscerate the heart."

Blinking quizzically at the two men, Darcy asked, "How do we take out their hearts without getting infected, ourselves—and how does the infection spread, anyway?"

Loki reached over and tapped one of the vid screens (Darcy tried not to marvel at his mastering of their technology). "Infection, for this particular situation, spreads through contact with the magic, itself. My best guess is that Lucan created the spell in one human being. He probably starved it to the point of insanity, and set it loose." He enlarged a picture of a set of runes, coupled with some kind of cell system. "The magic is inhaled and festers in the lungs. It forms a membrane which is then transferred to the next human by expectorating."

Owl eyed, Darcy's face scrunched in disgust, "They, like, hawk a loogie on people?"

Seemingly undeterred by the strange and sick goings-on in the land of zombies, Tony regarded Loki with suspicion, "How do you know?"

Loki shrugged, "Some of it is conjecture. But, it's exactly what I would have done, had I the time and resources."

She couldn't help the next words out of her mouth as they sprang forward like so much verbal vomit. "Why didn't you?"

Loki's slicing eyes met her gaze, sizing her intentions in cool calculation. "This kind of magic takes massive amounts of energy—energy I couldn't have generated at that time, even if I desired it."

"Oh," was all she could say in response and the room dropped into awkward silence.

Tony swept away the images, bringing up her model once again, "I'm thinking booby traps."

And just like that they were walking through ideas, and to Darcy's surprise, Tony would occasionally ask for Loki's input. Completely forgetting the Darcy had a whole other job with its own responsibilities attached, she argued and cajoled with them for several hours. It wasn't until Coulson sent a video conference call to Tony's computer that she realized her forgetfulness. Guilty, she tapped the accewpt button, waving at her boss.

"I'm sorry," she crowed in an embarrassingly whiny tone. "But I was totally contributing to the mission I promise!"

Tony leaned into the frame, "My fault, Agent. She's been helping with a Rube Goldberg I'm designing."

Coulson's face remained serene, "Perhaps I should hire a secretary for your department, Mr. Stark. Until then, do remember mine is rather busy. Darcy, I'll see you shortly."

Cowering slightly, Darcy disconnected the video conference and ducked towards the door, "I'll come by later and see how you boys are doing. Don't blow up any important appendages!" She called as the elevator doors closed. On the way up, she tried to think of some kind of excuse for her absence, other than forgetting that she actually had a job. She came up bare. Darcy could only hope for leniency in Coulson's retribution, whatever he chose to do.

As she stepped out of the elevator and towards her desk, she peeked over at Coulson's desk, which was, remarkably, empty. Scurrying to her chair, she picked at her inbox, pulling more insurance paperwork out and beginning to work on that immediately. Darcy wanted to be able to keep part of her attention on Coulson's return, and couldn't afford to get embroiled in a task that took too much focus. Filling out insurance forms was on her list of the ten most anguishing busy work activities designed by the government, and she was sure they used it to torture criminals in some sick productive way.

Coulson hadn't returned by the end of the day and Darcy powered down her computer hesitantly, keeping one eye on the door. Then, she trudged back to her rooms, her guilt growing with each step until her shoulders bowed under the weight of it. Opening her door, Darcy's heart almost dropped to the floor in front of her as she spotted Coulson sitting on one of the barstools by the island the divided the kitchen and the living room. She pressed her hand to her chest, catching her breath even as she glared at him from over the rim of her glasses.

"You scared the shit out of me," she wheezed, "What are you doing here?"

Coulson shoved to standing and handed her a pad with a touch screen, "I was given this about an hour ago. I think you'll find it interesting."

Darcy touched the screen, and a video popped up, playing automatically. Her eyes closed against the realization that this was the video from the medical lab and she was about to see something that was somehow incredibly private. Glancing down, she watched Loki bend over her, watched him place his hands on her, watched the colors emanate from and through them in the air, the lights flickering above. Coulson reached over and stopped the playback, looking at her expectantly.

"I'm not apologizing," Darcy said defiantly. What she did on her own time was her business, though _technically_ she had been on the clock.

Coulson leveled a hard look at her, "I don't expect and apology, I expect an explanation. We are in a world crisis and I can't have this kind of variable flaring up in the middle of a fire fight."

"What makes you think it will flare up, I've got control over it," she retorted haughtily.

"You mean you have control over _him_," he almost sneered, though he had excellent control over his expression and tone—which remained frustratingly blank. "You can't control him, Darcy. Believe me, we've tried."

Darcy sighed loudly and dramatically, flinging herself back on the couch which had been the site of her first real magical encounter. She touched the leather, thinking. "I don't want to control him, Agent. I just want to learn from him." Sitting up, her expression turned to pleading, "He opened all these doors and I want to see what's inside."

"My name is Phil," Coulson replied.

"What?"

"Phil is my name, and you can use it outside of work." He set the pad aside and stepped around the edge of the couch to sit opposite her. "I'm worried for you. Loki is… unstable to say the least. Dangerous, even. The damage he could do would be irreparable."

Darcy nodded, knowing where he was coming from, and sympathizing with his position. "I'm glad that you care, I really am. But, nothing ever got accomplished by sitting around all day scratching your ass. I'm going on the offensive, Phil, and let me tell you, I'm going to rock your socks before I'm through."

Thought the speech was said in a tone that could possibly be called sarcastic and filled with snark, Darcy was warmed by the idea of someone looking out for her safety. It was a nice change from 'run, Darcy, run!' which had been so common in past dealings with alien gods and government agencies. Coulson was at least twenty years older than her, and even though she had known her dad before he died, he reminded her a lot of him. They had the same eyes, she decided—they gave away everything they were feeling. And Coulson was seriously concerned that she would end out deader than dead with Loki nearby. It was sweet, in an extraordinarily strange way.

"You still haven't provided an explanation," Coulson said, crossing one ankle over his knee and folding his hands over it.

Darcy shrugged, "Not much to explain. We're sharing magic, I guess, nothing more than that." Which was a complete fucking bummer because, well, damn. Coulson may have been her boss, but there was no way he was going to get her to admit she really, really wanted to throw him down on the first stable surface and see what lay under his clothes.

Coulson tilted his head to the side, taking the information in, "Explain sharing magic."

She laughed, "I really can't. I would if I could, but I can't. I honestly don't think I have any magical ability, but he's able to pull _something_ out of me through a single touch." She thought for a moment, "He called it, 'affinity', but I don't have a definition or anything. Loki isn't exactly a forthcoming guy."

"Tell me about it," he retorted softly, and Darcy got the first real glimpse of emotion from the man who always seemed to reflect back absolute nothingness. "Listen," he reached over and placed a hand on Darcy's arm. "Don't lose your focus, we need you grounded during this. After… after you can do what you want, but right now, try to keep from going missing for hours at a time."

"Will do, Phil," Darcy replied with a smiled. "Besides, I hear we've got a zombie apocalypse going on 'round here. Looks like we need to be the big damn heroes and save the world."

Coulson rolled his eyes, "Don't get too cocky. You're still wet behind the ears."  
"Wet behind the ears?" She crowed, "Who uses that phrase nowadays?"

"Important people," he replied dryly. "Try to get to work on time tomorrow."

He stood, picking up the pad, and strode to the door, nodding to her before stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. Darcy watched him for a moment, taking a deep breath as she contemplated the fact that Shield had video of her magic exchange with the god of lies. He needed to know, but she never quite knew when he was going to see her again. She also didn't want him to think that, if she stopped the exchange, she was rejecting him. There was no way she had that capability, as she said, no way could she deny him. The thought made her pause for a moment, determining if this was a good or bad thing and unable to come up with a definite answer. Darcy guessed that, as long as he never steered her to her own destruction, she was probably alright.

Standing, Darcy trudged to her bedroom, feeling both tired and filled with adrenaline. The day had been eventful, to say the least, and she was excited to see how the next few days went. Still… there was a niggling fear that she was under surveillance now because of her affiliation with Loki, and that made her skin itch in an awful way. It wasn't fair that he didn't know… but how does one start a conversation about how the government is spying on them and asking questions about their relationship that wasn't quite a relationship but was still on the boundary of the definition of the word.

Sitting cross legged on her bed, Darcy wondered if their connection worked both ways, if she could send energy to him as he did for her. It was a long shot, she knew, but worth a try. Closing her eyes, Darcy focused on how it felt to have his magic around her, focused on the lights and patterns that were slowly becoming more and more familiar. She saw them in her mind, felt her skin react with the neurological sensation. For a moment, the tension inside her spouted out from her body and filled the room—and then her head began to pound with the strain. Groaning, Darcy grasped her head and rolled so that her face was buried in the pillow. She lay there for a long time, counting the pulses of pain until they faded into something dull and annoying rather than sharp and blinding. When she could face the low light of the room again, Darcy was shocked all to hell to see Loki sitting at the foot of her bed, looking like he actually belonged there.

"You know," he said very seriously, "There is such a thing as a cell phone."

Darcy's glare would have killed any mortal man on the spot, but since he had all these god powers, it did little in the way of stopping his heart. "I didn't know you had one. And you totally never gave me your number. This was the only way I could think of to contact you outside of hunting you down again tomorrow on my lunch break—we all know how that turned out."

Shaking his head, Loki rolled her so that he could lay next to her on the bed, folding his hands behind his head. "I'm here now. What happened?"

"Coulson came by with a video of us in the medical lab. Who knew Shield was such a bunch a voyeurs—scratch that, common sense demands it."

Beside her, Darcy felt Loki tense, his body shifting so that his weight rested on his elbow, his eyes searching her face for answers. "And they have demanded you never see me again."

She laughed outright, "As if. Coulson just wanted to know what the light show was about. I couldn't really explain it, though. He settled for telling me to be careful."

Loki's response was to drop one finger down the line of her forearm, sending little magic tendrils along her nerves. She shivered, going on autopilot to categorize and magnify the sensation. He pulled away and she was tempted to call the feelings back, but her exhaustion was taking its toll, leaving her grasping at air.

"He's right to advise you towards caution," Loki murmured, look for the world like he was a chastened young boy.

Darcy sighed lightly, "He also trusts me to make my own decision." The implication of that statement hung between them, sagging against both their defenses as the seconds ticked by. Loki's gaze was far away, his mind working over something that had rolled through his consciousness. She waited as patiently as she could while he thought, fingers curling to keep from touching his skin. Their continued acquaintance was as much his decision as it was hers and she didn't want to press him for something he didn't want. There seemed to be too much of that already going on in his life.

After a minute or so on concentration, Loki's face loosened and relaxed, his hand returning to her skin in a chaste caress. As his fingers encircled her forearm, Darcy allowed the exchange to begin with her eyes closed in concentration. She didn't know how long it lasted, the shift between modes of being that alternatively left her fulfilled and wanting. Her best determination was a few minutes at a time, with pauses so that she could adjust to a new intensity and volume of power. He edged her forward with slow successions of increasing magic that systematically revealed more and more levels of the strange shapes around her.

Now the she wasn't completely overwhelmed by the experience, Darcy could press forward through the shapes to make out distinct movements and bodies as they swung around and slammed against one another. They came into focus only when she concentrated very hard on one at a time, otherwise their rolling masses intertwined together so that they were indistinguishable. Pinning one down, Darcy strained to make out the form of the magic, her body tensing as she physically leaned into him with the effort.

The blur faded and she saw a pair of people, pushing away from one another and shoving back together, their limbs striking out at one another until Darcy recognized the blonde hair of Loki's older brother. She squinted into the light, her horror growing as she watched the two brothers brawl on thin air, battling for dominance. Pulling away, she focused on another stream of light, sensing an image of an older, beautiful woman leaning over a small dark haired boy. After it dawn on her, Darcy castigated herself for being so remarkably slow in recognizing that the streams of magic were in fact memories. The magic was the experiences of the spell-wielder's life, that which made them who they were.

Darcy's attention shifted from the power to Loki's unreadable face. Though he hadn't broken contact, she could practically see the walls of his defenses springing up like grass after a spring rain. This was a pivotal moment, she knew, because he was waiting for it—he was expecting rejection, horror, fear, disgust. She gave him none. Instead, Darcy reached forward and pulled herself closer, sending out her own brand of comfort in returning the magic he so freely gave to her. Let him see her memories if he wanted, let him explore that which made her a human being.

The comfort between them lulled Darcy into an almost trance like state that gave her exhausted body and mind the initiative it needed to barrel towards sleep. She lost consciousness to the low hum of her body as it flowed with power.

**We'll get down into the meat of things here shortly, stay tuned!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here we get a deeper glimpse into the depths of the magical affinity between our dynamic duo. Do enjoy!**

Darcy arrived to work on time, she powered up her computer immediately, and she started on the paperwork in her 'in' box. Five minutes in, she glanced up, giving Coulson a pointed look that read: "See, I can be a good employee." He, for once, acknowledged her adherence to his earlier requests with a pleased nod of his head before he, too, continued tapping away at his keyboard with intense concentration. Forcing her body to remain in place for more than a few minutes at a time was more difficult than Darcy would have liked. Downstairs, she could take a turn about the room, make coffee, or pester her coworker when the boredom threatened to overwhelm her. Here, pestering a coworker may potentially earn her an extended stay in Siberia.

Her phone buzzed mid-morning and she absently reached over to check the screen, her mind consumed with the paperwork in front of her.

_You shouldn't fall asleep with strangers, mortal._

Chuckling, she replied, _Pssh, I had my taser under my pillow._

_Liar. It was on the floor by the bed._

She rolled her eyes. _Pot, meet kettle. Want to do lunch?_

Darcy's stomach rumbled in appreciation for the upcoming meal. In the rush to make it to the office on time, she had neglected to eat breakfast. Patting it affectionately, Darcy took a glance at her phone to check for a reply. Minutes ticked by and she began to wonder if he would answer, if she had overstepped their invisible lines of boundary with the mere offer of food. And then she thought about how, exactly, he had gotten her phone number, which led to the recurring idea that he had adapted remarkably to the technology around him and that he had some seriously intense creeper tendencies. She pressed the tip of her finger to the screen several more times as she tried to refocus her mind on the work flitting over her computer screen—more paperwork that was slowly driving her to the brink of insanity.

When, finally, her phone buzzed by her hand, Darcy shifted her eyes downwards to stare at it dubiously. Slowly, she picked it up and tapped the screen to open the message.

_Give me twenty minutes. Will you meet me at the medical lab?_

It was a telling thing that Darcy had to suppress a squeal of delight as she replied quickly in the affirmative. Not only was she going to get some fresh air, Darcy may be able to get some of those nagging questions answered. She counted down the minutes, making a distinct effort to look casual while she finished up the form and sent it to Financial, and when twenty full minutes had passed, Darcy slid away from her desk. Lifting her purse to her shoulder, she nodded to Coulson, indicating that she was going to take her lunch elsewhere.

Before she even stepped into the lab, Darcy could hear the shouting from inside as it echoed down the halls. Tony was holding some sort of mechanical extension strapped to his arm, which was waving around frantically as he spoke rapid-fire insult coated words at Loki. As she watched, Darcy got the gist of the conversation, which centered on something that looked like a glowing Rubik's cube. She craned her neck to get a better look, stepping further into the room, which inadvertently stopped the conversation mid-sentence as her presence finally got noticed.

"Oh, it's totally cool," she called out awkwardly, "I can wait if you need to, I don't know, clear the air or beat the hell out of each other, or screw each other senseless." Honestly, anyone of those options would have left Darcy with entertainment for _months_.

Tony's mouth threatened to break into that boyish smile, but he held it carefully in check, "Do I have time to suit up?"

Face softening in humor, Loki smirked and retorted, "You wouldn't last a minute."

"Tell that to your brother," Tony replied, smug.

At the mention of Thor, Loki's humor slid from his face, but the smirk remained, turning icy and decidedly vicious. Darcy took that moment to intervene, hopping forward and grasping Loki's hand, pulling him away from the temptation to end the city's first superhero superstar. It seemed she was getting better at controlling the seemingly involuntary exchange of magic that was tossed between them, as her ability to walk and talk hadn't been affected.  
"It will have to wait, I'm starving and you wouldn't like me when I'm hungry," she called from over her shoulder. Practically dragging him through the doors, Darcy didn't allow herself to stop until they had stepped inside the elevators and she had indicated the ground floor on the side panel. As the carriage began to move, she slumped a little against the wall and forced a smile on her face even though her adrenaline had kicked up a little and it was taking a little time to calm her pounding heart.

"I wouldn't have killed him, you know," Loki murmured knowingly.

She shrugged, "Better safe than sorry."

"Indeed," he replied, so softly that she had to strain to hear it.

Stepping out into the public office was an almost surreal experience after several days in relative isolated at the core of the facility, which remained hidden from external view. Darcy squinted against the natural sunlight, flinching as the heat touched skin that had been softened by the air conditioning in the building. People milled through the streets, going about their routines as they would any other day of the week. Darcy watched their faces, none showing even the littlest hint of panic or strain outside of the obvious normal stressors. There was a zombie apocalypse right under their noses and they had absolutely no idea. The thought sent a wild bout of humor through her brain, even as it frightened her that the government could hide something so big from so many people in a way that looked to her to be effortless.

Leaning over, she whispered, "Just think, in a week this place will be a total ghost town." Darcy liked having the little secret between them, liked the feeling of being in the know instead of the normal, bumbling air that seemed to surround her college years.

Loki blinked up against the light of the afternoon, his striking eyes taking in the atmosphere and the population. "It is for their own protection."

She nodded in mock seriousness, "Magic, and baddies, and zombies, oh my!"

His confused expression told her that the Captain had not yet been able to convince him to watch his favorite movie of all time, a feat that had been executed on many of the Avengers team, if office gossip was to be believed. She let it roll off her shoulders, crossing the street against the light because she was too hungry to wait and most cars stopped for her anyways. Loki caught up easily, his long legs picking up her quick and bouncing stride effortlessly.

They trekked the five blocks to her favorite pizzeria in record time, and when they stepped through the doors, Darcy automatically breathed the smell of rising dough deep into her lungs, her head tilting backwards in delight. She loved this place, this little dive in the middle of a city so big that most people missed it. But, it had the best dough in the whole world and the pies always, always, always came with extra cheese, whether you asked for it or not. She had spent many nights here with her laptop and a pile of books, chewing on pizza while she wrote the latest paper in a long line of useless research for undergrad.

"Large supreme," she called out as she approached the counter, "Two cokes, breadsticks, and fried pickles."

While they waited, Darcy plopped into her favorite booth, motioning for Loki to join her. He slid carefully into the padded seat, hands resting on the table between them. Darcy nodded to the waitress, who brought their drinks to them in faded plastic tumblers, bendy straws already in place. She watched as Loki sipped at the cola, a little disappointed when she got no reaction other than a deceptively slow bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. Apparently, someone had already introduced him to the joys of carbonated beverages. She wondered at how she could feel disappointed about that little fact.

"So, what were you and Tony fighting about?" Darcy asked, knowing that it was tactless and probably a little rude, but she figured that he had seen probably all of her most embarrassing memories the previous night and she kind of _liked_ seeing those eyes narrowed at her.

Loki shifted in the booth, absently twisting the cup in one of his hands as he considered his words. "He wants to harness the power of the tesseract to power one of his devices. I have certain… reservations."

Glancing away, Darcy watched the people walking by through the window, recalling the damage of the last unleashing of that kind of power. The toll it took on the city, and the toll it took on Loki. "I can see where that could be a problem."

He shrugged, "Any real power is bound to be difficult to control, hence our situation with Lucan."

"Speaking of that," Darcy edged out, "Have you made any progress with tracking the latest super villain down?"

Loki paused as their fried pickles and breadsticks were placed in front of them, waiting for the waitress to walk out of earshot before he spoke again. "I know he is in the city. I can feel him nearby, but I don't understand why he is staying here when there is a whole world out there in which to hide."

Darcy popped a fried pickle in her mouth, "Maybe he wants to see you."

This was one of those moments that, had he been drinking, she imagined Loki would have spit the coke all over their table. His whole body literally flinched at her words, eyes widening even as his mind began to work towards more conclusions, connections, and a correction of earlier hypotheses. The sharp lines of his jaw tilted downwards in thought as he worked something over in his head. Darcy let him think, munching on a breadstick and observing the world around them, most of which Loki seemed to have forgotten.

Their pizza arrived and Darcy dug in with her fingers, smiling around the cheese and dough as the heady taste of hand-made pizza set in. There was a possibility that she might have moaned, but had anyone asked, she would have denied it. Whatever. Anyway, Loki was pulled from his thoughts and returned firmly to the present where his eyes lifted and locked with hers. On cue, the doors of the pizzeria slammed open and group of rambunctious college frat boys stumbled in. Darcy's attention remained on her companion, but she could hear them angling closer to the counter, growing louder by the second.

Annoyance flicked across Loki's face briefly, and Darcy wondered if she would have to step in and try to distract him with her _oh-so feminine_ wiles. But, the lines on his face smoothed and she felt a pulse of magic race through her, arcing between them and outwards towards the ends of the room. One of the men hollered out loudly and Darcy twisted in her seat to see him picking himself off the ground only to slip again, landing painfully on his elbow. She winced, watching fascinated as he fell over and over again, until one of his buddies had to help him to a seat.

Turning back around, Darcy raised a brow at Loki, who smirked and finally reached over to pull a piece of pizza from the pie. She watched him take a bite and chew thoughtfully, and she was once again disappointed that he seemed neither surprised nor relatively enthused about the food. She couldn't figure out if that disappointment stemmed from her utter love for pizza or her utter want to show him new experiences. She tried not to think about what that meant on its most basic level.

After finishing their meal, Darcy discovered that their pace back to Shield headquarters was much slower, and she found herself savoring the feel of the city before complete evacuation. It occurred to her that there would be no more of these little walks for, potentially, a long time—months, perhaps, or until they got rid of the zombie people, whichever came first. Darcy wanted to reach out and touch the doors of the shops as she walked, she wanted to brush her hands across the cement and asphalt, to sit on a bench and breathe the smoggy, dusty air until she was filled to the brim with the atmosphere of this little piece of dirty heaven. Whatever she drew in now would have to last, and she fully intended to make use of what little time she had left.

While drawing in the atmosphere, Darcy caught site of a homeless man stumbling forward from an alleyway, dirty and bumbling and probably drunk. She smiled, thinking it another aspect of the city that she loved—but her smile dropped as he vomited all over the street.

"Ew," she said, gesturing a little to the man who had an ever widening berth of people walking out of their way to keep from entering into his space.

Loki looked over his shoulder at the prone form, his dark brows drawing together in what she thought was disgust. He stared long enough that Darcy began to feel uncomfortable and mentally unrolled her speech about city etiquette. Just as she started to rev up the confidence to become the teacher in their little dynamic, Loki pushed her behind him with a hiss. The homeless man rose slowly, locking eyes with them and snarling. Darcy's breath caught in her lungs as she realized that this was her first ever zombie encounter and she wasn't even prepared with a shotgun or some hokey shit like that—how lame could she be?

The form blocking her view tensed until the muscles beneath her hands felt like stone. He pushed her further backwards, his attention on the zombie, which had caught their scent. It coiled before them with eyes of pure venom and Darcy tasted the remnants of her pizza rising from her stomach. In her core, Darcy felt a building of electricity that pulled her closer to Loki. She pressed against him, the fuzzy feeling sharpening until it became a physical pain. And then something forceful shot forward through her, through Loki, and into the zombie. It flew backwards with the shock, seared to the bone until nothing was left but a dry husk.

Jaw practically lying on the concrete, Darcy stared in horror and abject disgust. Loki, who was much quicker on the uptake for all things out of this world, pushed her into a quick step towards the offices which all of a sudden seemed much too far away. They moved in unison even as Darcy started to lose her breath, but Loki wouldn't let her stop until they were safely inside and riding the elevator back to the medical lab. Wordlessly, he strode through the doors, his voice calling out to Tony, who stood calibrating yet another creation.

"They have reached the surface!" He yelled out in a tone Darcy had never heard him use before. It was some kind of mix between fierce and frightened. She touched his arm, not sure if comfort was what he needed, but offering it all the same. He followed her movement absently, fingers threading through hers as he stepped forward towards Tony to further his explanation. Darcy bounced along beside him, ready to give the play by play if Tony seemed confused about anything—it didn't seem liked as the man was a genius, but she was there, just in case.

"We saw one of them in the city today, roaming in the open."

Tony smiled, "That's fantastic. Looks like it's time to get crackin'. I'll go tell Fury."

Loki held up a hand, "Hold on. If Lucan's minions have reached the surface, we're looking at a faster rise in the epidemic than I predicted."

"We have made some changes in our mission," Coulson said as he paced into the room. "Tony, we'll debrief you in the evening. Darcy, you're needed in my office. Natasha is waiting for you."

Silently giving Loki's hand a squeeze, Darcy followed Coulson's veiled directive, making her way back to her office. The red headed super spy was sitting at her desk and there was a distinct understanding that she may or may not have a gun pointed at her as Darcy approached.

"Coulson said you needed me?" Darcy asked.

Natasha rose, a slick movement that hinted at years of dance training and careful sculpting of muscle. "I'm to arm and debrief you on your duties."

Darcy's eyebrows rose, "You sure Coulson wants to put a weapon in my hands? As I understand it, my file specifically requests that I'm not to be given a weapon." Of course, that file had been read while Coulson was making coffee, upside down, from a few feet away from his desk, in secret. But, Natasha didn't need to know that, and Darcy wasn't going to tell her that the directive was a little hurtful to Darcy's surreptitiously sensitive ego.

"Let's go," Natasha said. And Darcy followed without protesting because she greatly valued the intact nature of her body. They turned a few corners until they reached a part of the office floor that Darcy hadn't known existed (although exploring was not really high on her to-do list during the last few weeks.) Through another set of doors, Darcy was really very impressed to see a complete gun range with a small arsenal posted on the wall.

Darcy was handed a pistol and loaded clip, which she slid home, cocking it to shove a bullet in the chamber. Natasha thin brow lifted marginally and Darcy shrugged, "Dad was a cop." Seeming to accept her explanation, Natasha took the gun from her, exchanging it for a larger, sleeker model. Darcy fired another round down range, and was handed yet another. This process was repeated several times over until Natasha seemed satisfied and signed out one of the weapons in Darcy's name. Then, she handed Darcy a gun belt and they returned to the office.

Natasha sat stiffly in one of the arm chairs across from her desk, and Darcy had the urge to make the woman feel comfortable against her better judgment. Reaching down into her secret stash, she pulled a box of gourmet chocolates out and setting them on the desk. She lifted the lid, picking one out of the bunch and offering some to the other woman with a mischievous smile. With reflexes quicker than Darcy's mind could process, Natasha plucked a chocolate from the box and popped it in her mouth, chewing stoically. Darcy sighed. Mission failed.

"About this debriefing…"

"You'll be monitoring from one of the computer stations," Natasha nearly barked. "Though that may change, given more recent information."

Darcy's brows drew together in question, "How? Why?"

Shrugging, Natasha leaned forward and selected another chocolate, "Weapons experience is seldom found in a… twenty five year old."

Her eye twitched at the correct guess of her age, and Darcy had to drop her gaze to keep from saying something biting and thus incurring Natasha's wrath. "Like I said, Dad was a cop."

"Your dad knew how to keep you safe. What else did he teach you?"

This time it was Darcy who shrugged, "Just how to handle a gun, a little self defense, things that would help me out at college."

"You should watch your stance when you fire," Natasha said without preamble. "You drop your shoulder and it will throw off your aim."

"Thank you," Darcy replied, suddenly a little too tired to throw in any bite. "I'll try to remember that."

With nothing left to say, Natasha rose, grabbed another chocolate and strode away. Darcy watched her go until the woman turned the corner out of sight, wondering at what had just happened. She put the chocolate away, saving it for the next time Natasha stopped by, figuring if she could at least soften the blows the woman could deliver, that would be better than nothing. Turning back to her computer, Darcy flicked through a few emails and tried to return her mind to work, but her mind kept going back to the gruesome episode on the street, how the power had flowed from her body outwards, how the zombie had sizzled to charred flesh that stank to high heaven.

The tension in the building rose with every passing hour, until assistants were running here and there in frantic paces that had Darcy jumping out of the way as she tried to get back to her rooms. When, finally, she stumbled over the threshold of her pseudo-apartment, Darcy let out a sigh of relief so big that her whole body relaxed in the action. She dropped her stuff on the island and trudged to her room to change, hanging the gun and gun belt over a chair. Comfy jeans and t shirt firmly in place, she pulled her hair into a ponytail as she walked back out into the living room. Immediately, she could feel the change in the room.

"Loki," she called with a roll of her eyes. Seriously, did he know any other way to visit but creepy?

"Yes," Came the disembodied reply.

"Quit being a creeper and come hang out with me."

"Well," he replied, materializing on the couch, lounging. "Since you asked so nicely."

Sitting nearby, Darcy folded her legs beneath her and took him in. He was wearing dark wash jeans and his ever present button up, blue-black hair pushed away from his face though it looked decidedly more ruffled since their last encounter. His expression was amused, which was fairly normal, but there was a note of intrigue in that toothy smile. There were a hundred thousand things that could cause him to look at her with fascination, and Darcy thought that maybe it would be worthwhile to begin cataloguing them for future reference. It would probably be completely impossible, however, because Darcy's mind seemed to melt every time he looked so intently at her.

Clearing her throat, Darcy scrambled for something to say, "What's the plan?"

Loki reached over and touched her arm, "I've got to get you trained."

Ignoring the small bursts of power floating through her consciousness, Darcy managed to scrunch her face in confusion, "What?"

His smile was decidedly mischievous, "Lucan expects his magic to go unchallenged. We'll both need to be ready to face him when the time comes."

She backpedaled desperately, "Oh no, I'm not a part of this. I'm no superhero; I'm not even a side kick. I'm a _secretary_, for Christ sakes."

When her physical body started pulling away, Loki shot forth with a rupture of power so powerful that it stayed her movement, stunning her. "You don't have a choice, Darcy. We all must play our parts."

Her eyes narrowed, "Is that what we're doing here? Playing parts?" When he took longer than she thought necessary to reply, she said, "No answer. Am I right, then?"

"I," he started, "I don't know."

"Well, what _do_ you know?" Her voice had taken an acerbic tone that she knew was more hurtful than she intended.

Loki leaned back against the couch, his head falling so that his eyes were shielded from her. "When I first came to you, I hoped to scare you into not revealing our connection to your supervisors. And then I realized you had no idea… and I could not let you just exist in all this perfect affinity and not know. It seemed cruel." With a sharp movement of his core, Loki folded forward, fixing her with an intense expression. "I had not the ability to stop once it started, I craved—still crave the ability to move power between us."

"I know the feeling," Darcy admitted reluctantly, picking at the frayed seams of her jeans while she tried to work out what exactly she was feeling. Glancing up, she could see the shift in him, his body lifting and rolling forward to invade her space. He didn't touch her, which gave her the air to think about their respective admissions, but the nearness of him did not leave her unaffected. She was once against assaulted by the rich velvet scent and the preternatural heat that emanated from his skin. There was also something vulnerable about him, but he kept it so well hidden that she only saw it when he thought she wasn't looking. But, he was showing his vulnerability to her now, and she would be stupid not to take the smallest bit of advantage of the situation. She reached up and ran her fingers over his jaw line, pressing gently against his skin.

Closing her eyes, she called out to the power she knew was resting just beneath the surface, edging out the slice of doubt the flitting over his consciousness. He wanted to know what she was getting at, she knew, but not even Darcy had an idea of what she was doing—again with the rolling with the punches. Settling into the cushions of the couch, Darcy raised her free hand to bring him closer, slipping through the strands of his hair to hold him in place. She kept the pulse of power slow, ebbing in the same drifting was as the ocean on the tide. It took several small attempts, but eventually he relented, turning the outgoing flow on its head so that it returned to her in the same, slow path.

Darcy had never been one for meditation, she couldn't keep her body still enough to start thinking deep thoughts, but there was stillness in this that seemed incomprehensible for her. Her breaths evened out to match the slowing of her heart, her constantly moving mind down shifted to first gear, and her attention focused with such intensity on the magic that the world disappeared almost completely. It was the only time she could be called anything relatively close to calm, and she was finding that she liked it more than the yoga she'd tried on a whim in high school.

Loki, it seemed, was a quick learner as he seemed to have judged how much power she could take and how fast she would allow the escalation. Gradually, he increased the flow, opening it up until the magic rushed in a closed circuit around them at the peak of Darcy's tolerance for the sensation. She realized, belatedly, that there was not just feeling that came along with the power. There was sight, smell, and sound that all functioned together to bring a riot to her body. It responded to her every desire, her every need, until nothing seemed beyond the perfect manifestation of her intention and of her will. She gloried in it, courting the flows until she could manipulate them ad infinitum into utter, perfect harmony.

When she happened to open her eyes, Darcy caught Loki's knowing grin and almost reached out to slap playfully at him in mock aggravation. The magic would have been interrupted in the act, so she settled for a baleful glare and a small pinch to his skin. He chuckled, adjusting his grip to haul her closer as his eyes closed in concentration. The world shifted on its axis and Darcy had to grab at the fabric of his shirt to keep herself sitting upright. The magic withdrew from her, sliding away and then back again as it was molded into something entirely different. It wrapped around her body, lifting her from beneath her skin in a strange but pleasant caress. Darcy could feel it carding through her hair, running along the hemline of her shirt, and the seams of her jeans, settling in the crooks of her body until she was inundated with it.

Darcy's magic (or the magic she manipulated, she wasn't quite sure which) was light, airy almost, filled with golden flecks of light and color and awash with buzzing electric touches. She recognized this magic as something that was distinctly Loki in nature. It moved in agile twists and turns, slicing through barriers like a warm knife through butter until it had weaseled its way into every sense she had. There was no escaping it, and no outwitting it, either. The power dominated everything she had until she had no choice but to submit—though there seemed to be victory in doing so, for at the very moment she let go, Darcy could feel the radiation of his pleasure as it echoed as her own.

She heard him chuckle and the power between them ebbed enough that she looked up at him in confusion. He smiled down at her widely, one hand lifting to break the circuit long enough to twirl a lock of her hair, "You are so incredibly responsive."

Darcy rolled her eyes, "Only because I'm overwhelmed."

Devious expression sliding into place, Loki enunciated quite clearly, "Really? Perhaps I have grown lax in my abilities. Overwhelmed is mild compared to what you should be?"

Shooting him a sardonic grin, she replied, "What should I be?"

Leaning down so that his breath puffed over her ear, he whispered, "You should be besieged, beleaguered, and in so much awe that you can't even remember your own name, tiny mortal."

Darcy couldn't help the shudder that racked her body as he spoke in that honey-sweet tone that told her he was used to getting his way. What she could help was the rise in challenge that came whenever he used that tone with her. It made her itch to prod him further, to see just how far he was willing to go—which, by her calculations, was farther than she had even been.

"I've told you before, my name is Darcy," she replied carefully. "And you'll have to do better than that."

Darcy could feel the air crack with his ensuing expression, the fading of his humor to something infinitely darker. He surged forth, pushing her to near horizontal on the couch and pinning her with the weight of his body. The power, which had been controllable between them, exploded in a frenzy of light and sound, pushing at her senses until it had invaded and conquered her. She reached out blindly, feeling the shape of his hips and the flex of his core as he pummeled her with more than she thought she would ever be able to handle. It took everything she had to fight her way back to the surface and to return his power with one of her own. Though weaker, it did the job of surprising him with a quick jab to one of the outside tendrils. In the act of adjusting his strategy, she hit him again, and soon they were pushing at one another, fighting for some kind of dominance that might not be possible to achieve based on their respective wills. But, Darcy tired faster, her stamina nowhere near that of a god, and she relented eventually.

Breathing hard, Darcy's head fell back into the armrest of the couch, her body exhausted and her mind still buzzing with the force of power that slowly withdrew until it rested ever so lightly on her skin. Feeling like she had run a marathon, Darcy mentally checked her extremities so make sure they were still in working order. Her fingers, toes, arms and legs seemed pretty okay, but her poor heart felt like it was going to give out any minute. Patting her chest lightly, Darcy refocused on breathing, hoping to get the organ going at a normal pace sooner rather than later.

On the other hand, Loki seemed barely winded as he held himself above her, his keen eyes taking in any potential harm or injuries. Reaching down, he pulled her hair from her face, petting the length gently as she recovered. If she had the energy, she would have made a sarcastic comment about how she wasn't a cat, but as it was, she was barely managing breathing.

Loki, having ascertained that she was, indeed, going to live, leaned down so that they were on eye level, their skin barely inches apart. "What is your name?"

She wheezed, trying to answer, curling her fingers inward to flip him the silent bird. He glanced at it and smirked, pulling away enough that the air between them thinned so that she could finally draw a full breath. Darcy tried to sit up, she really did, but her tired muscles screamed out in protest so that she ended out flopping ungracefully back to the cushions.

Firm hands slipped beneath her, pulling her up and into his chest so that he could carry her to her bed.  
"My hero," she said, only half kidding. There was seriously no way she was going to be able to walk the admittedly few feet from one comfortable set of cushions to another.

As he set her down, Loki shook his head, replying, "You will have to forgive me as I do not have practice playing the savior."

Darcy snuggled into the pillows and blankets, "You're doing an excellent job. Perfect scores across the board for this damsel in distress."

Settling in beside her, Loki smiled distractedly, "I concede to your superior knowledge on the subject of daring rescues."

She reached over and patted his thigh, "As you should, Loki, as you should."

He sighed, and she knew somehow that a very serious conversation was coming, one that she wasn't even sure she could manage to stay awake in order to participate. Her lids were tired and her body begging for sleep, but she held out a little, hoping to get a few words in edgewise despite her increasing fatigue.

"I still need to train you," he said carefully. "If Lucan cannot control his wayward spells, neither can I. I will need help." He sounded almost as tired as she was, as if he had spent long hours puzzling over his predicament. In way, she knew he had. His freedom rested on solving and succeeding in his assignment, and though she didn't know what he had to go home to, she knew what it felt like to want to go home.

Darcy shrugged, and even though her eyes were closed she could see his slightly frustrated expression. "We have, like, two days to start working on this. What can I learn in two days that you couldn't in—how old are you, anyways?"

Ignoring her question, Loki said, "You cannot hope to learn much, but I will teach you to anchor and amplify my own power. It is the only way to amass the needed energy to stop the magic completely."

"Okay," Darcy breathed, "But I make no promises. If I blow up half the city, I'm blaming you."

Loki palmed her hip, straightening the fabric of her shirt, "Darcy, if you blow up half the city, the blame will fall to me regardless."

"Not fair," Darcy whined, "You didn't do anything."

He pressed the very tip of his forefinger to the skin left exposed between her jeans and her top, "Darling, I never do."

She couldn't tell whether or not he was being sarcastic, and the tired part of her mind didn't really care all that much. Darcy liked the warmth of his body as it soaked through the comforter and into her lazy bones. She liked the way he brought magic into her life, and how their exchanges were equal parts learning experience and utter exhilaration. She liked that he talked with her as an equal, that he didn't ignore her and that he sometimes asked for her opinion. She liked that her opinion might sway his argument one way or another.

Darcy inhaled deeply, feeling her consciousness slip away, though she tried to hold on as long as possible. As her mind faded from logical thought, it occurred to her that she just might like Loki, mischief maker extraordinaire. It also occurred to her that she might just be in over her head. The problem was that there was no indication one way or another whether or not this was a good or bad thing, her liking him. Either way, it was going to be one hell of an adventure and Darcy did love a good adventure.

**There are two more chapters of this complete, and I have another three at least planned following that. I'm hoping to create a more fleshed out story (forgive the pun) with this story than PTK. **


	5. Chapter 5

**I had a little fun in this one. *Wink* I hope you will, too. **

As it turned out, Loki could be quite the slave driver when it came down to the practice and manipulation of magical fields. They started the second she got back from work the next day and worked for hours on controlling more and more of the power until Darcy sagged against him in defeat, her lower stamina finally giving out. He held her by the hips, urging her to continue on, but Darcy pleaded for a break. After several thoughtful seconds, Loki relented and they both sat down on the couch to rest. Correction, he sat, she sprawled.

Out of breath and muscles shaking from the exertion, Darcy stared up at the ceiling until she could form a coherent thought that wasn't screaming for mercy. "There is no way I'm going to pick this up in two days. My brain is melting in my skull right now."

Eyebrow raised, Loki replied, "I very much doubt that, and you're coming along just fine. When you've rested, we'll move on to physical manifestations and the concentration of power."

She was tempted to throw the couch cushion at him, or possibly smother him with it, she couldn't decide which course made her happiest. "Loki, I know we move on the same wavelength, but I'm barely holding on right now. This is way too fast."

Reaching over, Loki pulled her up firmly by her forearms, his eyes dark and his expression hardened to chiseled granite, "We move at this pace because we must. Lucan has infected hundreds by now, and if we cannot stop him soon, the whole of the city will be killed including every person in this building and everyone you love. I know you are tired, and I know your body is aching, but we must keep pushing through your fatigue."

Owl-eyed, Darcy nodded without really thinking about it, a soft 'okay' slipping past her lips in the minutest of sounds. Still trembling, she allowed him to return to the slow flow of magic that always signaled the beginning of the exchange, moving with him as he adjusted his position on the couch so that one arm held her upright and the other stretched out in front of them. The various bends of magic pushed outwards and rolled over one another to form a globular ball of shifting power that glowed faintly.

"Now," he said lowly, his voice vibrating against the skin below her ear. "Push the magic forward, increase it in its present form until it has doubled in size."

Brow furrowing, Darcy focused on the magnetizing power within her body, gathering the echoes Loki sent back to her and sending it through to her palm as it rested just below his outstretched elbow. For a few seconds, nothing happened and Darcy's frustration rose sharply. She grit her teeth and pushed harder with sheer emotion, until—and she was fucking surprised—the magic grew and pulsed in Loki's palm, spinning into a more defined sphere that pressed outwards the longer she worked. Fatigue winning in the fight for her body, Darcy huffed out a gust of air, releasing her focus and the magic. The floating globe immediately reduced in size and color until Loki flicked it away with a careless turn of his hand.

Loki patted her back gently, "Very good, Darcy. Well done."

"Thanks," she replied dryly, too exhausted to remain polite when he had directly created the migraine growing behind her eyeballs. She slumped back against the couch, rubbing at her temples as the pain grew in small degrees. In vain, she closed her eyes to block out the light, hoping to stop the ache before it got to be too much to handle.

Cool hands slipped beneath her fingers, pressing lightly against the throbbing skin. She went to pull away as the pain sharply increased upon contact, but he held her still while more of that damnable magic grew between them. The visceral darkness of it character softened as he murmured words she couldn't hear, and even though she really shouldn't have been surprised by it, she was shell shocked at the immediate dissolution of the migraine. It faded away into nothingness within seconds, replaced by a warm fuzzy glow that, when she opened her eyes, made her think that she was looking at everything around her with a soft focus lens.

"If you could bottle that, you'd make millions," Darcy sighed as she felt her body melt into the softness of the couch.

Loki chuckled, and it did something wonky to her skin, raising the hairs along her arms in awareness. "A minor healing spell, nothing more."

"Still," she replied shortly thereafter, "It's pretty amazing. Thanks."

"You are most welcome." His tone was so polite Darcy thought that they could have been perfect strangers. It was interesting to see how he oscillated between formality and familiarity with her, and she supposed that was part of his upbringing as a member of the royal family of Asgard.

"Tell me about home," she said softly. "Is it totally different from Earth?"

There was a beat of silence, then, "Yes. Mid—Earth… is much cooler than Asgard."

She laughed, "Well, I could've told you that."

"I mean in temperature," he retorted, tapping playfully at her knee. "Asgard is warm, almost too warm, all year. Everything gleams with the heat of the world and the only place to find respite is in the caves."

"Hmm, I played in the sinkhole behind my house as a kid. But, I don't think it's the same thing."

Pulling both her legs so that they lay across his lap, Loki arranged himself into a more comfortable position on the cushions, his expression turning thoughtful. "Possibly not. Thor and I explored the caves often, much to the Queen's dismay. We got lost once, for hours. The Allfather had to send a guard to find us."

Darcy gazed up at him with a small smile, "Were you scared?"

"Yes, but only after we realized how thoroughly lost we were. I thought no one would find us and we'd be in the dark forever."

She touched his arm in the only comfort she could muster with her failing strength, "We all have that feeling at least once. I got lost in the supermarket once, cried for, like, an hour until one of the staff called my mother over the intercom. Probably the lamest moment of my life, but I was so freaking happy to see her."

There was something about the recognition of her memory that made Darcy think that growing up in either realm was an experience that was probably more alike than different. The silence that ensued was quite comfortable, and even though Darcy wasn't one to go for long without the urge to fill the space with words, she found herself unwilling to break it. He allowed her to rest for a while and then he pulled her back to sitting and they started with the magic blob all over again. Once she got the knack for it, he made her hold the magic for longer and longer periods of time, forcing her to focus on the task with far more effort than any test she'd ever taken in college.

When, finally, he decided they had finished for the day, she nearly collapsed with the joy of it, her smile tired but jubilant. Loki indulged her momentarily, and then told her that Jane had asked to see her in the lab after their session.

"She knows we're working on this?" Darcy asked tentatively.

He shrugged, "She knows I have asked you to help with a project of sorts. I did not speak of the details."

"Oh," Darcy replied, "Do you want to tell her the details?"

Another shrug, "I suppose that will be your decision."

"Oh," she said again.

Jane was fiddling with some kind of graph on one of the touch screens when Darcy traipsed through the doors of the lab. She spotted her friend and practically tackled her in greeting, "Where have you been?"

Her laugh filling the room, Jane hugged her tight before releasing Darcy. "Trying to keep Tony from blowing the whole city straight to hell."

"Full time job, eh?"

The aforementioned Tony popped his head above one of the workbenches, grease smeared over one of his cheekbones, "I can't help it that she wants to spend all day with my sparkling personality."

Darcy rolled her eyes, "Might not want to tell the god 'o' thunder that. Can't do much hero work with your spine ripped out."

His smile was almost maniacal, "I'll just build a new one." Darcy supposed that he probably could, given that he had practically built the shining device in his chest out of a Tonka truck and Legos. She peered over Jane's shoulder, checking out her latest project.

"What the hell is that?" She quipped with half a smile.

Jane's face lit in a familiar bout of anticipation for her work and Darcy felt her heart squelch a little in the emotion of their friendship. She listened to Jane rattle off something that was way above her head and her pay grade, flinching as the screen flashed in the running of the model. They were still going with the herding and penning of the zombies idea, hoping to pull them out of the sewers through the water drain pipe near the edge of town and annihilate them in one fell swoop while minimizing the collateral damage. It looked simple enough to Darcy on the outside, but as Jane delved into the actual mechanics of how they would direct and redirect the zombies into the proper routes, her brain kind of shut off and went into Darcy-land.

She nodded in what she thought were the right places, hoping to get at least the gestures of understanding right. In truth, Jane could probably be speaking Latin and she would get a better gist on what she was doing. She just didn't have the heart to tell her friend that she didn't get it or to see that kind of crestfallen look on Jane's face when the woman began to understand that her work wasn't going to be appreciated to its fullest potential. Somehow, Darcy managed to get the nods and 'mmhmm's' right and Jane finished with a flourish that must have been something worthy of a science convention medal.

"Well, looks like as good a plan as any," Darcy said finally, hoping that would cover the necessary response.

Jane's returning expression was pleased, "I think so. Natasha has a contingency plan in place, but I'm not sure we'll need it."

"If there's anything life has taught me, it's have a contingency plan. You never know when the shit is going to hit the fan and you'll have to run for your life." It had been a saying the Darcy had picked up in high school, but as time wore on, the supposed metaphor became more and more literal. She generally disliked the trend toward the factual interpretation, though she had little hope of ever stopping it.

"So," Jane edged out, pulling Darcy off slightly to the side, "I hear you're working on a project with Loki."

Darcy patted herself on the back for keeping the blush from staining her cheeks, "Yeah. Just little things to keep me from dying horribly when all this shit goes down."

Jane looked for a moment like she would press the issue, but she eventually nodded, "Just be careful, okay?"

"Absolutely. Careful is my middle name."

While Jane refocused on working out the kinks in her part of the project, Darcy took a moment to examine the room. The lab seemed to always be cluttered with a multitude of Tony's projects, but somehow it seemed to have grown even more claustrophobic in the twenty four hours since she had last seen the place. She wondered at how much coffee Tony had consumed as he worked to built prototype after prototype of potential weapons and guards against the oncoming hoard. There were all kinds of little gizmos that they piled one on top of the other, and she thought she saw some kind of erector set catapult peeking out from a pile of seemingly failed attempts.

In the corner, so quiet she almost missed him, was Dr. Banner sitting behind a computer, glasses in place while he hunched over something or other. Absently, he reached over and picked up a mug and sipped at it while he read. Darcy had seen the video (despite the fact that she definitely didn't have clearance), knew what potential the man had for rampaging through the city. As she took him in, she guessed that all that rage and emotion worked itself out so completely during his transformation that his default while in Dr. Banner-form was inherently meek. Tony obviously regarded his opinion very highly, and Darcy kind of thought it was a waste that he feared himself so completely.

Knowing that Jane had once again lost herself in the ever-pressing nature of her work, Darcy waved a weak goodbye and scuttled from the room. On the returning trip, Darcy watched the tense faces of the agents around her as they walked (and sometimes ran) past. Everyone was beginning to feel the pressure of the oncoming fight and it occurred to her that she felt no such tension. It was possible that she was over tired and her body just hadn't caught up with the demands of her mind, and it was possible that she really didn't understand everything going on. None of that seemed to matter, nothing seemed to disturb her mojo. Darcy was a walking physical manifestation of zen and if she was honest with herself, it freaked her out a bit—okay, a lot. Why wasn't she going half crazy with the fear and anxiety of the apocalypse?

Taking a slight detour, Darcy headed down to find the one person who might be able to give her a straight answer and who had plenty of knowledge on the subject of the art of the zen while working a crisis situation. Her office was singular in that most, if not all, the cubicles nearby were empty. It sat in the corner of the floor dedicated to computer analysis and Darcy had the urge to reach out and tap randomly at the buttons—she barely managed to suppress it. Moving slowly, Darcy approached with a kind of shuffled caution.

"Hey," she called out in greeting, well before she actually reached the threshold of the doorway, though she probably had zero hope of actually startling the woman. Natasha's cool gaze assessed her in half a nanosecond before the woman leaned back in her chair and motioned her forward.

"I have a question," Darcy began, not really waiting for a reply before she blurted out an explanation for possible insanity and how maybe she should get herself tested. Natasha listened unblinkingly, giving Darcy all the empty silence that she needed to explain the issue and just how freaked out she was by it.

Twisting a pen between her nimble fingers, Natasha held her still with a cool gaze, "What you're feeling, or not feeling for that matter, is fairly normal. It's like shock, your mind is removing itself from the situation in order to deal with it properly."

"So, I'm not a freak of nature?" Darcy asked carefully, eyes flicking down to the pen she knew could fly at her any minute and lodge itself in her throat.

The spy shook her head, amber curls falling forward over her shoulders, "No. It will catch up with you eventually, and you should be prepared for when it does. Try to keep your breathing even and still your mind. It will go away after a minute and you can get back to what you need to do."

Swallowing, Darcy ventured, "What if it doesn't?"

Leaning forward, Natasha's eyes narrowed, "It will go away because you have to make it go away. When you're in the field, there won't be time to be freaking out and second guessing yourself. Act, or die."

"Well, when you put it that way…" Darcy responded mildly. Pausing, she thought hard about her next question and whether or not it would end with her in the death throes on the floor. _Fuck it. _"Has it ever happened to you?"

"Of course," Natasha retorted as if it were obvious. "And I overcame it, just like you will." There is a beat of silence, then, "Your dad taught you a lot. Use it."

"That's your only advice?" Darcy responded, incredulous.

Brows lowering, Natasha leaned away, "Use what you already know. It's the best advice in the world."

"Point," Darcy admitted, begrudgingly. She sat silent for a moment, contemplating her lack of freakitude and Natasha's not so potent advice. Somehow she'd hoped for a sensei moment, some kind of Star Wars Yoda revelation—something she hadn't thought of before, anything to help her get through the next epic moment of her life. It wasn't Natasha's fault that she felt a little cheated out of some kind of metaphysical answer to her life's troubles, and it was probably her fault for thinking that Natasha could offer advice to someone who had, like, zero skills for the situation. She sighed, dropping her head back to stare at the ceiling.

"This is beyond lame," she murmured offhandedly. "I'm going to end up getting myself maimed because I have no idea what I'm doing."

A feminine chuckle sounded from in front of her, and Darcy's head snapped up so hard her neck cracked, even as her mind failed to wrap around the fact that Natasha actually had the ability to laugh. She rubbed at it distractedly, pushing her body further up into the chair so she could sit up straight.

"I'm serious," she almost whined.

"I know," Natasha shot back. "And it's entirely possible that you'll be killed in this. It's possible that I could be killed."

Darcy snorted, "A lot less probable, I'd say."

The spy shrugged, "Granted. I think the important thing is that you're here, fighting, and not running away and hiding."

Rolling her eyes, Darcy replied, "I'd like to hide. God, would I like to hide."

"You're not. That's the difference between bravery and cowardice."

"Or stupidity," Darcy remarked dryly.

Expression bland, Natasha gave her nothing in answer, her hands resuming their twisting of the pen in contemplation. Darcy, figuring the conversation wasn't going to go forward any time soon, stood and waved her goodbye. Later, when she was snuggled in bed, it occurred to Darcy that Natasha—and probably everyone on the team—had been in her shoes once or twice, second guessing themselves and wondering just what the fuck they were doing amongst giants. Okay, maybe not Tony, but just about everyone else. She wondered how they had overcome it, how they had finally made the decision that they were worthy of the responsibility that had been foisted upon them by others. She wondered if she would ever get the chance to ask.

Darcy assumed that, since it was a weekend and she technically didn't have to be present in the office (but was still on call), Loki would let her sleep in. She was wrong, of course, and he showed up bright and early. To make matters worse, she literally had just rolled out of bed and he looked, as always, like he had just stepped off a photo shoot. She hated him a little for that. On the plus side, however, he came bearing the gifts of coffee and doughnuts so that they didn't have to make a trip to the cafeteria before their session. Darcy, glad for the food stuffs for she had no food in her rooms and was so not going back to the surface to try to get some, only gave him a slight ribbing for waking her so damn early. He let her grumble, smiling at her disheveled hair and sweats.

"What's next, magic man?" She asked when they had settled into their customary positions on the couch.

"Target practice," he replied casually, as if they were heading to the mall for some window shopping or down to the park. Darcy raised a brow, pushing her glasses up her nose as she considered what that actually meant and how she was going to explain a destroyed apartment to Coulson. At least there wasn't a TV, she couldn't afford to replace a flat screen on her government salary.

Shrugging, she stood, "Let me put on some actual pants and we'll get started."

Somehow, while she was pulling on a pair of jeans and tying back her unruly hair, Loki had worked some massive magic on her place. The furniture had been pushed to the far wall and there were floating 'targets' hanging all around. Carefully, she worked her way through the veritable minefield of hanging, glowing light to where Loki stood expectantly.

"Alright," she said, bouncing a little on her toes, "Let's do this, and try not to destroy the apartment."

He chuckled, raising an arm to aim at the nearest target, "I make no promises."

A bolt of power sprang forth from his fingertips, smashing against the target and setting it temporarily aflame. As it fizzled out, the target remained unharmed, hanging ominously in the air. Knowing her task, Darcy reached out and grasped his arm beneath the elbow, concentrating on the target. The magic built in small waves, pushing the tension in her body to the forefront of her mind. The power burst surged out, shattering the target into tiny, shining fragments. Proud, Darcy smiled up at Loki, who seemed equally satisfied.

"Quick learner," he murmured, moving on to the next target. They worked for a while on stationary objects before moving on to shifting objects. Soon, the spinning globes were moving so quickly about the room that Loki more than once had to pull Darcy out of the way so that she wouldn't get pelted in the head with one. Eventually, it became easy to follow his lead, her muscles pulling from memories that weren't quite her own in order to shift from low to high, right to left, in synch as they sought out and destroyed several targets. Even as her body burned with the exertion, her adrenaline kicked in hard and she was able to continue on long after she normally would have given up.

As a kind of finale, the targets began moving with more purpose, not only evading their combined magic but also zooming towards them to crack against their bodies and deflect their attention. Darcy did what she could to keep out of their way, but one clipped her in the side, sending her sprawling across the floor. For a moment, she thought the exercise was over, but they kept coming and she had to scramble to her feet quickly to save her hide from further bruising. Ducking down, she slid back into place near Loki and grabbed hold of one of his shoulders, feeling the power pulse as yet another target was destroyed. With quick successions of magic, they took out the final three targets, leaving them standing in the middle of the room panting for breath.

"That was fun," she huffed quietly, wondering if she could make to the couch before collapsing. Thinking better of it, she dropped to the floor in a heap of ungraceful limbs and sweating skin.

Loki eased down next to her, pushing his hair from his face with both hands, "I hope you still think so when we face Lucan."

Darcy rolled her eyes, "One villain at a time, amigo. Right now, I've got to deal with this growing bruise on my ass."

Brows drawing down, he grasped the belt loops of her jeans and pulled her across the floor with surprising ease. It took a moment for Darcy to connect the dots and when she did, she shooed his hands away.

"You haven't even bought me dinner yet!" At his confused look, she continued, "Usually men take me out to dinner before I let them take off my pants."

His smile, when it came, was wide and glinting, "I will keep that in mind."

Darcy's heart kick-started in her chest while her mouth pursed to form a soft 'o' and her mind whirred to find an appropriate response. She settled for, "Good. Always happy to help with cultural differences."

The words were wispy and Darcy forced herself to attribute that fact to their morning exertions and not to the fact that there was six plus feet of demi-god hanging out on her apartment floor. Shifting her gaze to the ceiling, she tried to pull her mind away from those traitorous little thoughts that told her to be her usual bold self and jump the guy. This was no college student in a bar, and this was _so_ not the time to be considering starting something romantic when the world was ripping at the seams with the potential for world-wide infection. Still, the feeling remained, but Darcy, Queen of Turning the Other Cheek, ignored it dutifully.

"Are you really bruised?" It was a question that was so unexpected that it took a moment for Darcy to reply.

"Probably," she said with a wry smiled, "Got hit once or twice on the side."

He response was hesitant, "Shall I heal it?"

She rolled to her uninjured side and propped her head on one hand, "Okay."

Carefully, as if afraid he would do further damage, Loki placed one hand on her side, the weight of it pressing down ever so slightly. Darcy swallowed as the recognizable course of magic pumped forward into her system, sending shudders of pleasurable sensation down deep into her muscles. It relaxed her so that her head dropped from her hand to rest against the cool floor. She closed her eyes and smiled, accepting the power into her body and feeling it begin to heal the damaged flesh. It coursed over and around, touching here and there to test for the need of repair, sometimes searing and sometimes tickling lightly.

Darcy was grateful for his help, and simultaneously awed by his trust in her to take on something that was so completely foreign to the both of them. One hand slipping downwards to complete the circuit, she sent waves of that gratitude back to him. She could feel his acceptance and enhancement of that emotion, turning it over within himself to bring back to her. And so it continued, rolling back and forth between them and growing ever so slightly with each lap of the route. The affinity, whatever it was, seemed to evolve each time they exchanged power, and Darcy wondered if it was like this with every pair that could share magic.

Words were not going to possible to describe the feeling of comfort that came with the nearness of him and the power he kept so well hidden—metaphors were also mostly off the table. She reveled in it, rolled around in it until the power coated her in thick rivulets that clung to her skin. Within her little cocoon, she could almost forget that she was in borrowed digs, wearing clothes from the thrift store, and she was less than a few days away from the fight of her life.

Something new caught her attention, a foreign sensation in the magic that tugged at her curiosity viciously. Seeking it out, Darcy tapped at it with her mind and circled it several times in quiet observation. When she pressed at it, she could feel Loki pulling it back into the fold of magic, tucking it safely away. _Hell, no_, she thought to herself, her determination rising to the unspoken challenge. With determined pulses, she ducked beneath the smoke screens he hastily erected to distract her, pushing forward things that at any other time would have satisfied her quest. Relentlessly, Darcy trailed that little bit of something new, following even after he physically pulled away.

As the connection began to fade, she caught it lightly by the tail, her fingertips barely brushing against it at the last second. Lungs stilling, Darcy's eyes flew open as the searing, almost painful feeling of awareness shot deep into her mind. As she had been relentless in chasing it, the feeling was in turn relentless in its attack upon her. It sizzled beneath her skin, fraying her nerves until they snapped in the most absolute feeling of lust that she had ever experienced. Radiating to the very ends of her consciousness, it shot outwards with intensity and retreated to her core where it settled as a heavy weight in her belly. Her eyes squeezing shut as she made vain attempts to control her body even as it settled into familiar, intensified arousal.

Loki sat very still nearby, jaw clenched and eyes wide, seemingly ready for the worst case scenario of her emotive response. Darcy tried to sit up and found she didn't have the strength, so she settled for remaining sprawled on the floor while the silence wore on interminably. Clearing her throat, Darcy blinked up at Loki, her brows lifting as she waited for his explanation. As the resident newbie to the wielding of magic, she was counting on him to pull a Yoda and explain the minor details of The Force.

Expression guarded, he asserted softly, "I was hoping to keep that from you."

"Oh?" Darcy replied with as much nonchalance as she could muster, which was, admittedly, very little.

He nodded, "It is a common occurrence with magical exchanges between affined pairs."

Strength slowly returning, Darcy managed to rise to sitting and level their gazes somewhat, "So, what you're saying, is that this happens a lot. Has… _that_ been happening, um, for you—the whole time?" Officially, she was an idiot. Darcy couldn't even manage to talk about a seemingly normal thing without stammering like some kind of blushing moron. And, here she thought she was finally acting like a grown up.

The defenses around him sprang up in quick succession and, had she not been uncomfortably warm in some unmentionable places, Darcy would have shoved at him and told him to stop it. As it was, she merely sat in quiet anticipation while he worked out the issue in his mind.

"Yes," he replied finally.

Absently, she took in the information, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you might be offended," he answered with this matter of fact tone that almost annoyed her. Pursing her lips, she stared at him, noting the slight slump in his shoulders, the twitching of his fingers as he awaited her judgment.

"How could I be offended by something you can't control?" She murmured quietly, her gaze dropping off and to the side.

He sighed, and Darcy was struck with the knowledge that this could not be a good sign. "I should be able to control it, Darcy. I have been wielding magic for far longer than your lifespan and it should not be this difficult to protect your honor."

Darcy chuckled lowly, "Don't take it so seriously—I mean, my 'honor' isn't exactly spotless, you know."

The roll of his eyes was tinged with enough amusement that Darcy thought they might be able to get over this obstacle with little collateral damage. "_My_ honor is all I have," he replied succinctly. "And my honor is now contingent on the securing and protection of yours."

Brows furrowing, Darcy quipped, "And how did that happen?"

"It happened," he replied, helping her to standing, "The second our affinity was confirmed and you fell under my protection."

Heading to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, Darcy halted, "So, what you're saying is that just because we use the same magical FM station I automatically fall under your protection?"

"Something like that."

She huffed, "Shouldn't there be more to it than that? I mean, you could potentially share affinity in your magic with, like, a billion people in the universe. That's a lot of people to try to protect."

Loki slid onto one of the bar stools near the island, "I have only found one, Darcy, in all the realms."

This time it was Darcy who sighed, "You haven't met the whole universe, there will be others."

He shrugged, "Somehow I doubt that."

"You never know," Darcy replied primly. She lowered her voice conspiratorially, "The universe could be plotting against you—you'll have a legion of people to protect and you'll be running around from one realm to the next, cleaning up messes left and right."

Seemingly against his will, Loki shook his head and laughed, and his smile was brighter than she had ever seen it. She sipped at her water, watching him press his palms together in contemplation. "Now that I know all of this other stuff is happening, how do we…?"

Loki caught the gist of her meaning, "Ah, I will resume shielding it from you. There's no need for you to feel uncomfortable."

Uncomfortable was definitely not part of what she was feeling when she had caught that little bit of hidden magic. Hot, flustered, aware, those were all things she was feeling and uncomfortable was definitely nowhere near those feelings unless she counted the strange tightening of her muscles in preparation for exertions of a completely different sort.

"Are you," she ventured, "uncomfortable?"

His gaze dropped to his fingers, "Uncomfortable is not the word I would use?"

Intrigued, Darcy leaned forward with an attempt to seem curious, but not too curious. She wanted to know what he thought, not freak him out. "What word would you use?"

The darkening of his expression told her that she may be tugging a little too hard on the metaphorical tiger's tail, but she goaded him with a curious expression in return, unable to let the opportunity go. Loki slid off the barstool and sauntered around the edge of the island, closing the distance between them with even steps. She watched his fingers trail along the counter top, moving inexorably closer with each passing second, while she made valiant attempt to keep her breathing under some semblance of control.

"I would use the word," he drawled lightly, "stimulating."

The tension hung between them, heavy and thick with newness and uncharted territory. Darcy managed to keep from stepping back uncertainly when he invaded her personal space in a purposeful manner that she was sure he was using to intimidate her into leaving the subject alone. What he probably hadn't counted on was the fact that Darcy, herself, had used this tactic many times over the years to get what she wanted and, though it was definitely strange to be on the other side of it, she knew enough about what he was doing to counter it with a move of her own.

Lifting her chin, Darcy allowed her mouth to spread in the smallest of polite smiles, "Stimulating. That's a good word for it." She cocked her hip to the side, angling her body so that her considerable assets twisted in elegant unison. "I hate to know you're suffering, though."

He leaned down so that his cheek brushed against her hair, the timbre of his voice dropping an octave, "Darcy, some things are worth suffering for."

***Ducks* I hate to leave y'all hanging, but I had to stop there or risk running into a chapter far too long for my taste. I'll be posting another soon enough, though, so sit tight my readers, there's plenty more on the way.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Bring on the apocalypse!**

The alarms went off that evening while Darcy was painting her toenails with some whiteout she'd dug out of the bottom of her duffel bag. She jumped up and threw the tiny brush down, not caring where it landed. Then, she shoved her feet into socks and shoes and bolted to the door where she pushed her body out into the chaos filled hallway. The lights flashed and the sirens continued to blare so loudly that Darcy had trouble making out what the people around her were yelling about. It seemed that more zombies had made it to the surface and the tactical team was being assembled early.

Amid the panic, Darcy had to duck several times to the side in order to allow a group of agents to pass unhindered in their duties. She finally swung around a corner and ran smack into Loki, who looked positively relieved to see her.

"Come," he said, pulling her along behind him so quickly that Darcy had to skip in her steps several times just to keep from being dragged to the ground. They moved through the halls with more ease than Darcy could have ever managed on her own as the crowd seemed to literally part like the sea before Moses (hey, they both had a badass staff). Loki ushered her along until they reached a large circular room filled with screens that ran numbers and matrices that she didn't understand. None of that seemed to matter, as she was pulled into the mess of people milling about with determined purpose. When Loki eased to a stop, Darcy kept nearby, wanting to stay out of the way of the people running the show. She tucked herself behind him, searching for familiar faces that would give her a little more explanation on current events.

Director Fury stepped out of the crowd to a raised dais and the room quieted to hushed whispers almost immediately. His one eyes trailed over the faces while the muscle in his jaw twitched with agitation.

"We are yet again faced with a dilemma," he called out, voice booming. "Do we allow the un-evacuated citizens of this city to potentially be exposed to the disease running rampant, or do we spend more time evacuating and allow the already infected to spread in our sewer system?" He shifted on his feet, stepping around and down a set of stairs, "Those of you who are field agents have been divided into two teams. One will evacuate the populace and the other will scour the sewers for the infected. You know your jobs—get going!"

People scurried around her, flitting to their assigned tasks while she stood off to the side waiting for her assignment to be doled out. Coulson was nowhere to be found, neither was her only informant in the matters at hand, Natasha. Darcy found herself completely unable to figure out what to do next, which only served to heighten her general anxiety. The room cleared somewhat, which allowed Director Fury to turn his attention to the recent college grad and her magical friend. He eyed them fiercely, hands folding behind his back in a fashion Darcy recognized as intentionally intimidating. It was a good thing she brought an Asgardian shield.

"Ms. Lewis, Agent Coulson tells me that you have been working on a special project."

Summoning up vast amounts of courage, Darcy stepped out from behind Loki and nodded, "Only a little one, sir." From behind her, she heard a scoff and part of her prayed that he would just let her handle this so that they both didn't end up arrested.

"Show me," Fury demanded as he sat in a swivel chair, expression only the slightest bit smug despite the seriousness of the situation.

Darcy's eyebrows hit her hairline, her mouth dropping open in shock. "I, uh, don't know—,"

"Cut the bullshit, Lewis, and show me what you have been working on."

And still her body refused to move—Loki finally had to maneuver around her to speak in her stead. Except, he didn't exactly speak so much as hold out his hand and summon a glob of power, motioning her forward carelessly. Darcy assumed her usual position and focused on enhancing and molding the magic until it was uniform and precise, growing in size and glowing brighter with each passing second. Loki held it aloft for a moment, then flung it aside to destroy what probably amounted to a thousand dollars worth of computer equipment.

"Impressive," Fury commented. He then tapped out a number on a nearby phone, "Coulson."

Darcy wondered if Coulson had a bit of magic, himself, as he seemed to be exactly where you needed him, when you needed him to be there. Out of thin air, he would appear and everything would kind of line up in a row at his unspoken command. Darcy felt a slight twinge of jealousy at this seemingly effortless talent and thought about using the facility's advanced spy system to study his movement in order to figure out his secret. _Focus, Darcy, there's a zombie attack going on right fucking now and you need to focus!_

Agent Coulson leaned down and listened to soft instructions from Fury and then gestured that they should follow him. Loki put up no argument and Darcy couldn't think of anything to say in protest, so she followed along dutifully. In the hall, Coulson started talking as fast as he was walking, which was pretty freaking fast for a guy over… she guessed forty.

"Teams A and B are working their way through the sewer system and we've located Lucan's headquarters, if you could call it such. I'm assigning Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton to you as protection while we send the two of you in to take him out. Any questions?"

Darcy raised a tentative and unnecessary hand, "Yeah, what if I get shot—you know, accidentally?"

Coulson raised a brow, "You won't be shot. Still, you'll be outfitted with full body armor and weapon."

"Oh," she breathed. "I have another question."

"Yes?" Darcy could tell that his agitation was rising, and she reconsidered asking, but if she was going to be risking her ass for this mission, she might as well be thorough.

"Do I get field pay for this?"

His sigh was long suffering, "Yes, you will get field pay."

"Awesome," she replied with a perky smile. _Hello, new laptop._ Darcy was being ridiculous, but her defense mechanisms were kicking in hard enough to double her over. She trailed along after Coulson and Loki, wide eyed and surprised at how quickly the relatively professional building had been reduced to barking orders and the stomp of Government Issue boots. A couple of agents she didn't recognize handed her a bundle of padded clothing and heavy vests, boots, and a gun belt then left her standing there with Coulson texting desperately on his Blackberry and Loki smirking in the corner. She stuck her tongue out at him in a juvenile fit of pique before a dangerous little plan formed in her mind.

Hiding her mischievous smile, Darcy divided out the bundle of clothing into pants, shirts, jacket, vest, and padding. There were a couple of pieces she wasn't sure what to do with, but she figured she could just point them out to Coulson once his attention strayed from his phone. With a deep breath, Darcy unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs, making sure to bend lightly at the waist as she kicked them off. Then, she peeled her t-shirt from over her head, dropping the fabric to the side in nonchalance. Darcy adorned herself with her assigned clothing carefully, only stopping to peek across the room when she had to sit to put on her boots.

Loki was leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest in a pose so casual that Darcy almost felt a little crestfallen. However, the fold of his muscle and the clenching of his jaw gave away the fact that her little show had hit home. She smirked into the fall of her hair, hiding her expression as she tied the laces. When she lifted her face, Loki had slid from his usual uniform into that fantastic swatch of leather and metal that somehow made him look taller and more menacing than usual. Though she, too, was dressed in Shield's form of armor, Darcy had to admit that Asgardian battle-wear was infinitely more appealing. Perhaps she could get Loki to score her some the next time he went home—Warrior Goddess Darcy had a nice ring to it.

Gaze holding steady, he approached her confidently with sparkling, alert eyes that made her shiver in anticipation. If Coulson hadn't slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and started debriefing them, things could have gotten interesting. Darcy listened half heartedly, disappointed and relieved all at the same time. She liked Loki, liked what he made her feel, but there was so much intensity in him that it made the normally free spirited woman bite her lip in apprehension. Couple that with the unexplainable affinity between them and the amazingly out of this world situation and Darcy had one hell of conundrum on her hands.

"You'll meet with your security detail on the roof, they will take you from there," Coulson ordered confidently. "Loki, take Lucan down and, since you have _assured_ us that you need Ms. Lewis, you will be responsible for her safety as well. Make sure she comes back in one piece."

The turn of Loki's head signaled that her protection was a given, but he surprised her in the politeness of his response, "Of course."

The agent seemed just short of satisfied, but let it go, turning to Darcy. "Ms. Lewis, you're not a hero, don't act like one. You follow the agents' orders or I'll haul you out of there by your gun belt, understood?"

"Got it, Phil." She got a narrowed glare in answer, but Darcy could see the lines of weariness and strain around his mouth and eyes. Coulson looked tired, but was putting on an admirable show of remaining in control. She wanted to hug the guy, except it was probably against protocol and she might be fired for it. Darcy settled for a high five, which took Coulson something like ten seconds to allow—she counted it as a victory.

They were escorted to the elevator and Coulson stood in front of the doors stoically while they stepped into the carriage. In the expanse of time between Darcy tapping the button for the rooftop and the doors closing, she caught the worry the flash across Coulson's face before he could school it into submission. There was a clenching of uncharacteristic pain that lanced through her chest and the only thing Darcy could think to do was wave like an idiot as the doors closed.

Safely ensconced in the elevator, Loki leaned down to speak lowly in her ear, "When this is finished, you will reap the consequences of your actions."

Heat fissured deep into her body, burning her cheeks with a blush, "I think I can handle it."

His chuckle pressed hard against her ears, nearly shaking her cool composure, "I seriously doubt it."

Thankfully, the doors opened to the rooftop and their conversation was cut short so that Darcy could come to terms with the varying feelings that were coursing through her system. They stepped out onto the roof and the wind immediately whipped at Darcy's hair, flinging it into her face. She ducked her head, pushing the strands from her face as she squinted out into the setting sun. Shadowed by the fading light, Natasha and Clint stood side by side looking out over the ledge of the roof. As Darcy approached, Natasha turned from her perch and eyed her speculatively. Absently, she pulled a hair tie from her wrist and handed it to the younger girl.

Taking the band gratefully, Darcy pulled back her hair, securing it as firmly as she could despite the wind. For a small expanse of time, they stood in a tiny circle, the residual echoes of the sirens blaring in the distance. Darcy blinked down at her feet in unfamiliar boots that pinched a little from having not been worn in well enough. If there was any time to be freaking out, this would be it, but she felt none of the tell-tale effects of fear. She only felt an unnerving calm that kept her hands from shaking and her mind more still than ever. There was no whirring mental monologue, no need to fill the space with speech, just a standing awareness of the world around her in which her body seemed to exist in a protective bubble.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Natasha eased into action, securing a line Darcy hadn't seen at first. Then, she attached a hook to her belt and swung her legs over the ledge.

"We'll swing down to that rooftop over there," Natasha pointed with a gloved finger. "And then we'll hop over the alleyways as long as we can until we reach Hill Street. From there, we climb down and take to the tunnels—the team should have cleared that section by then."

Simple, straightforward, precise, that was all Agent Romanoff's doing, though Darcy thought there might be some Barton flair a little later on in the night. With the grace of a prima ballerina, the spy fell from the roof and swung down the line to the lower ledge, catching it with her boots and pulling herself to safety. Barton clipped a similar hook to Darcy's belt and urged her toward the emptiness. Human fear kept her apprehensive, but a stern look from Natasha across the way forced her to throw her legs over the edge and oh so slowly trust her weight to the line. Faster than she would have liked, Darcy swung towards the lower roof. Her feet slipped against the rocky lip, but Natasha was there to catch her and jerk her body to solid ground.

After sending Natasha a grateful smile, Darcy's gaze flicked upwards just in time to catch Clint sliding down the line towards them. She stepped back, looking habitually for Loki, who seemed to have disappeared. After a beat, his body flew off the roof with enormous strength, his coat flying out behind him as he barreled through the air. Landing heavily beside her, Loki's knees bent slightly under his weight, but he eased to standing almost immediately.

"Showoff," Barton barked as he freed himself from the line and rearranged his gear.

Loki smirked, but said nothing in reply, his careful eyes already scanning the horizon for their next move. Natasha was working quickly, checking the angles and reporting in to headquarters quietly through a headset in her ear. Darcy stayed near the ledge, not wanted to get in the way and still not quite sure how she was going to be helpful on their little adventure. Again, Natasha took the lead and leapt across the small alley to a nearby ledge, signaling them forward. Again, Darcy was ushered across, followed by Loki and Barton. They moved in systematic pulses, checking the area first before leaping across the roofs.

By the time they made it to Hill street, Darcy's thighs were burning from the exertion and the sun had finally set beneath the horizon. The only light they had was the streetlamps below and the small flashlights they used to scan the alleyways. The air had cooled enough that the balmy day turned chilly with dewy humidity. The city was unnaturally quiet as most of its population was currently in government housing away from the coming firefight. It was calm, it was peaceful, and it was really freaking creepy.

Leaning over the edge of the rooftop, Darcy peered to the ground below, noting the seemingly abandoned cars and the half open doors. It seemed that Shield was doing a hell of a job with the evacuation and she looked forward to filling out more paperwork on the ensuing lawsuits—that is, if she survived. She leaned on her elbows, waiting for a new set of directives when a strange sound floated to her straining ears. There was a beat of silence, and then it came again, and again. It seemed to be a scratching—no, a dragging. Narrowing her eyes, Darcy arched her neck left and right to figure out where the noise was coming from.

Down the alley, near the darkest end, the sound formed out of a mist of swirling mass that pressed inexorably forward. She leaned further into the alley her eyes widening when a human hand swung forward and gripped the concrete, nails digging in to drag the rest of the body towards her. Swallowing, Darcy gestured wildly to anyone on the roof who would possibly notice, grabbing at the first swath of fabric and pointing animatedly. As it turned out, she was pushing Barton toward the end of the alley, making inhuman sounds of surprise and recognition in the meantime. He took one look at the zombie and reached for his bow.

In half a second, the zombie was exploding in a swirl of burned flesh and Natasha was urging them forward to circle back around to another drop point. She was urged down a fire escape at rampaging speeds before being pushed back against the wall of the building. Beside her, Loki breathed quietly, his hand pressing against her abdomen as he calculated the world around him in wide, sweeping glances in every direction. Darcy let him do the heavy work of assuring her safety, her hand straying to the gun at her side.

Easing around the corner, Natasha stepped out into the empty street, her long legs moving her from one place to another effortlessly. Darcy tip toed after her, looking both ways before stepping down into the street. Barton continued to hold his bow at the ready as he, too joined them on the asphalt. Loki was the last to follow, his brows drawing together as if listening very intently to the sounds of the fallen night around them. Darcy followed his curious gaze, backing away as another scratching body pulled itself forward, followed by a pair of bodies that were walking upright. Natasha pulled her firearm, aiming, but Barton had them down before she could pull the trigger.

"Into the sewers," Natasha called, throwing open the manhole and leaping inside. Clumsily, Darcy obeyed, dropping down into the muck behind her. Immediately, Darcy pulled a flashlight from one of the plethora of pockets in her gear and pointed it forward to see in the inherent darkness. Two heavy splashes sounded behind her and more light was picked up. Having seen to it that her whole team followed, Natasha stepped confidently into the dark, heading with uncanny directional pull down the path.

Once again, Darcy was struck by the silence and how it was only interrupted by booted steps and sharp breaths of air. She kept near the walls, her thoughts automatically recalling the paths and tunnels she had created in her model. It sprang up before her in her mind's eye, the paths popping out as they walked. Keeping part of her attention on the tunnel in front of her Darcy projected their intended location, rolling through a couple of ideas along the way. She padded in line, choosing not to pull her pistol from its holster for fear of accidentally shooting Natasha in the back, a happening that would probably mean eternal torture and loss of limbs.

As they turned a few corners, Darcy slowed to a stop, "Shouldn't we be going that way."

Their fearless leader stopped and turned, leveling a questioning gaze at her that almost had Darcy apologizing and backing away in supplication. Instead, she pointed down a side passage that was flooded with darkness so thick that Darcy wasn't exactly sure if they could even find stable ground on which to find footing. Natasha shone her flashlight down the tunnel, revealing empty space and flowing water. Darcy gestured to it again, this time a little more uncertain in her movements.

"We're heading towards the main aqueduct—and we can get there that way, but this way will bring us to the upper levels, which might give us an advantage if that is in fact Lucan's lair." It occurred to her that 'lair' was probably an apt description as this was an actual villain that they were dealing with, though she had never seen his face and the only person who had ever met him was Loki. They were descending into literal unknown, but that didn't mean that they couldn't head into it at the best possible angle to capturing a necromancer gone wrong.

Natasha seemed to think about her suggestion for far too long, and Darcy thought that maybe she would be shot down. However, with a nod of her head and quick steps, the woman headed down Darcy's suggested path without looking back. Strangely delighted, Darcy bounced along after her, listening for the telltale signs of Loki and Barton's boots following behind. This path was so much darker than the last and Darcy had to feel along the walls to keep her balance as she had no point of reference to aid in depth perception. They walked along silently and alone for quite some time while Darcy kept track of their location in the mental map of the sewers—that is, until a familiar and terrorizing sound pierced through the quietude to signal that they had company in those dank halls.

Springing into action, Natasha and Barton held up the front and rear of the group while Loki pressed Darcy behind him towards the walls. Their actions resulted in a cocoon of protection that kept her breathing fairly even though her mind was firing at breakneck pace. Flashlights pointed in both directions, the two spies waited for movement that seemed to never come. And then there was something undulating towards them in the darkness. Darcy squinted until several forms rocked forward with this unnatural gait, their groans arriving as near shrieks against her ears.

Disheveled was one way to describe the ghouls, but their rank odor and the skin sloughing off in great heaps made them gruesome to gaze upon. They twitched with the necromancy in their systems, great globs of mucous springing forth from their mouths and dropping to the ground. Gagging involuntarily, Darcy backed away with the need to vomit while weapons were fired in quick succession. Mowed down by the heavy fire, they fell to their knees, splashing water around them. One reached forward as if to stop a bullet with his hand only to be flung backwards by an electrified arrow.

It was then that Darcy's heart burst outwards, pounding hard enough that she could feel it in her toes, bile rising to the back of her throat. She couldn't control her breathing, couldn't make her eyes close against the horror of human beings that had developed into this grotesque, ugly things in front of her. Pushing hard against the wall, Darcy could feel the rocky outcrops dig against her skin hard enough that there would be marks later. She could see movement from her peripheral, and then Loki was standing near her, asking if she was alright. Even as her mind absorbed the question and formed a response, the signals got crossed and nothing happened. Continuing to stare at the mess of bodies, Darcy could not bring her body to make any kind of movement or have any other reaction than sheer horror.

Some small part of her screamed out loud enough that it broke through her wall of shock and awe, forcing a large gust of air from her lungs until they were empty and sagging within her chest. She breathed deeply several times, having the physically shake her body to bring the feeling back to her limbs. After checked that her flashlight was still in her hand and her gun was still in her holster, she glanced up at Loki with a nod.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," she said, the phrase repeating like a mantra in her head. It seemed that Loki would ask again, but more groans sounded from down the hall and they were suddenly moving quickly down the path, working towards the aqueduct with fierce speeds. Darcy hustled despite the lack of light, her booted feet pounding against the cement until her bones ached beneath the stress. The halls wound around in circles that coordinated with the blocks above and, despite her knowledge of the path, Darcy was beginning to wonder if the team had been successful in clearing the tunnels or if, too, had succumbed to the dark magic.

Ducking down to nearly avoid a fallen pipe, Darcy tripped a little in the water only to be pulled upright by Loki. At his touch, there was a burst of power that shocked her system to full charge, sending her to faster speeds immediately. She sent him a grateful glance, but almost immediately rolled her eyes as she could barely see his face, let alone gauge his expression. Even with the recharge of energy, Darcy's strength was beginning to fade as she was unused to the aerobic exercise. Her body and lungs were burning with the exertion and the pinching in her boots was rubbing her feet raw. When it seemed she could go on no longer, they reached a large opening above a huge cauldron-like formation of water that shot out before them so abruptly that Darcy had to skid to a stop in order to prevent her body from flying out over the ledge.

Natasha caught her back, signaling that they should all stay very silent—a directive that Darcy had no problem in obeying. They crouched down, all four of them, to observe the happenings in the room, which turned out to be very little. Aside from faint movements in the water, the room was empty and there was little to no sound. Darcy peered around and above, doubts about the location of Lucan's hideout beginning to form in her mind. She was, however, grateful for the rest, though she wished she had brought some water with her to ease her thirst.

They waited, and they waited, and they waited some more. They waited for what seemed like for-freaking-ever while absolutely nothing happened. There weren't even any zombies lurking around to take out while they waited for the big kahuna. After so much excitement in the night, Darcy was beginning to feel a little bored, having no purpose other than what was assigned to her by the field agents who were acting as her security on the mission. She looked to Loki, surprised to find his eyes closed in deep concentration, long fingers outstretched though his arm remained near his side. His eyes moved behind his eyelids and his body was tense, but there was no indication as to what he was doing. Guessing that he would tell her eventually, she huffed softly and settled against the wall.

Suddenly, Loki was standing and leaping out towards the water, one hand catching himself against the outcrop and angling his landing so that his feet touched down on a ledge over the pool. Darcy nearly went after him, but was stopped by Natasha's arm. She watched Loki paced back and forth for a moment before he pulled a ball of power from the air and sent it hurtling into the water. The power plunged beneath the surface, sending huge waves towards the rims of the pool. Almost immediately, a frantic light show began spiraling from within the septic water, pushing steadily upwards. From either side of her, Darcy felt the two agents tense and one by one they leapt downwards to face whatever would emerge in response to Loki's challenge.

From below, Loki gestured up to her indicating that she should jump to him and at first her eyes widened in abject denial. Even as she was shaking her head, his smile was growing as he continued to urge her silently to jump. The drop was at least fifteen feet of air and she had to angle it right so that she would not land in the sickening water. Looking behind her, Darcy could see nothing but darkness, and before her was very little light supplied from beneath a pool of which she could not perceive the depth. Neither choice was very appealing.

Settling into her zen, Darcy took a deep breath and leapt outwards towards Loki, who (surprise, surprise) caught her like so much air in his arms. Carefully, he let her down towards the platform, his attention returning to the growing lights before them. Darcy, too, seemed to grow mesmerized by the veritable aurora, until something burst forth with so much force that water rose in a waterfall that drench all of them. Darcy could tell that her expression had soured, and she hoped that whoever had risen from the depths would be chastised by her glare.

It wasn't some_one_ who rose so much as some_thing_—a dull roar growing in her ears. Standing over six feet tall, there stood on the other end of the ledge a being that made her skin crawl far more than the zombies. The things in the tunnels were mindless, almost, nothing left but skin, bones, and the need for violence. This was something completely different, though no less disturbing in appearance. Dripping with sewer water, the thing stared them down with hyper-intelligent eyes.

As a second surprise, Loki was the first to address it. "Lucan," he hissed quietly. "You've changed. New wardrobe?"

It didn't seem to be the best idea to taunt the big bad in the room, but Loki was treating Lucan like some kind of wayward child and what was worse was that Lucan was responding in lighthearted humor. He chuckled in a gurgle of sound, turning in a taunting sway as he eyed the four of them carefully.

"Loki," Lucan growled, "It is good to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same," Loki replied with seriousness, his tone outwardly light though Darcy could see the strain in his body.

The chuckle sounded again, lower and infinitely more menacing, "Ah, the circumstances could have been better. I will give you that. What you see before you is no great magician any longer."

Loki stepped away from the group, one hand subtly signaling them to stay back, "How did it come to this?"

"This?" Lucan replied happily. "This is the result of centuries of study, my dear boy. This is the fruition of my life's work."

At this point, Darcy was convinced the guy was bat shit crazy, but she deftly kept her mouth shut in case there was some real force behind his claim to power. She didn't dare reach out to test those waters, wary of setting him off by probing his magical aura uninvited. What, exactly, was the etiquette for seeking to figure out another's magical position? Did she make a formal request or were they free to delve into one another at will—somehow that didn't seem right. Forcing herself to focus, Darcy peered speculatively at the agents on either side of her, both palming their weapons in readiness for a fight that would come with little to no warning.

Loki had said something that she missed while in her thoughts, and it had sent the humor in Lucan's deformed face away with sudden alacrity. Darcy tensed as Lucan's expression turned to stone and for the first time she reached for her gun, pulling it from the holster and holding it between her hands. The metal was cool against her sweating palms, its solidity comforting. She kept it aimed downwards, knowing that, if Lucan moved to strike, she would have to aim quickly and precisely if she wanted to protect any of her allies in the room.

Lucan flung the robe around his shoulders to the ground, revealing gnarled skin and bones that seemed held together by sheer muscle mass. When he braced himself to pounce forward, Darcy raised her weapon, knowing instinctively that Natasha and Clint were raising their own in turn. The movements, when they came, were so very fast that Darcy knew the gun in her hands would be useless—she fired off a few rounds anyways. He tap danced around them, growling and snarling to intimidate and Darcy felt the two agents pull their backs to her, working to cover every angle.

The ground beneath them trembled with each landing, pushing them to crouch in order to keep their balance. Darcy ducked several times , losing sight of Loki for only a moment. He turned with some kind of graceful flair, eyes following the inhuman movements of his one-time teacher carefully. And then, with calculated aim, he snapped up a glowing orb of power and shot it out to Lucan, sending the creature sprawling.

"Darcy!" He called, and she scrambled to him in order to give him the necessary binding of power to end it. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her along so fast that her feet left the cement, only catching up to her when they were standing over the recovering body of Lucan. She felt the power build so quickly that she didn't have time to control it as she normally would, but (always rolling with the punches) she focused it outwards in the hope that Loki could produce the necessary formation to stop Lucan from getting back up. With more force than she thought possible, Darcy's core lit with magic, arching her back with it as the power travelled from her as a vessel into Loki as the aim, incinerating Lucan on the spot. Darcy wretched dryly as the smell hit her, burned flesh and something inherently disgusting. From behind her, Natasha was yelling something about the tunnels and more zombies. Darcy's gaze flicked upwards only to see a pile of zombies fall forward into the water after them. Bullets, arrows, and power orbs burst from their small group as they retreated under Natasha's lead.

Dizzy with the exertion and the prospect of more fighting, Darcy allowed herself to be flung over Loki's shoulder while he ran them both to safety. They pushed through the tunnels while she tried to keep consciousness and the zombie hoard moved with them. She could see them following behind their group and when one got a little too close she was forced to put a bullet through its heart point blank. As it fell, she could see its eyes, its expression, and it seemed all of a sudden far too human—she passed out with the understanding that while Lucan was defeated rather quickly, the legacy he had created was still going to be a huge problem.

Darcy woke in her own bed, in her own clothes, with no sign that she had just taken part in a gunfight-slash-magical reckoning. Confused, she stood from the bed, feeling the fabric of her sweats and t-shirt to make sure that they were, in fact, real. Padding to the door, she peered out into the living room, finding it empty. As she scanned the space, she caught sight of her armor folded neatly on one of the bar stools, her gun lying on the counter with the clip sitting innocently beside it. Wanting to confirm her suspicions, she grasped the clip and counted the bullets. Half the flip was empty, evidence of her using it not too long ago—or was it a very long time ago? Darcy had no sense of how long she had been asleep, but the lack of medical team or guards indicated that she probably wasn't seriously hurt or suffering from a comatose state.

When she made it to the hallway, she found it empty and quiet, the only sound coming from the hum of the fluorescents. Curious and tense, she moved through the halls with her hands reaching out tentatively to touch the surfaces around her in order to make sure that they were real and she was not dreaming. Darcy rode the elevator up to her office, conscious of the fact that her feet were bare and her clothes were worn. She peered around the likewise empty office when the elevator stopped, not even bothering to step out of the carriage before tapping out the code to Tony's lab—she found only more emptiness and silence.

As a last ditch effort, Darcy pressed the button for the main control room, annoyed that she still didn't have clearance. With nothing left to do, she returned to her room, threw on the discarded armor, grabbed her gun, and headed to the ground floor. The windows weren't smashed in, though the desk was empty, and the doors opened easily into the silent streets. Darcy stepped out into the middle of the road, looking both ways in hopes of finding someone in the emptiness.

Footsteps sounded from down the block and Darcy immediately ducked behind an abandoned vehicle just in case those footsteps were those of the walking dead rather than a potential survivor. Her gaze held solidly on the alleyway where shadows from the noonday sun shot forward with movement. After doing a mental count of the number of bullets in her weapon, she hoped that she would have enough to take down the group should she need to, though it might actually be better to simply let them pass. Swallowing back her tension, she braced her arms on the trunk of the car, taking aim.

From the space between the buildings, and to Darcy's ever-loving relief, a familiar red head of hair burst forth. Sighing, Darcy rose to standing and called out to Natasha, waving her hand half heartedly.

"What are you doing out here?" Natasha responded fiercely, pushing Darcy back towards Shield.

Astonished, Darcy shot a confused expression to the taller woman, "Um, I woke up in an empty building after passing out while being carried out of a sewer system. And, oh yeah, we were being followed by _zombies_! How am I supposed to react, please tell me."

Lips pursed, Natasha leveled an annoyed and slightly intimidating glare at Darcy, but she refused to be cowed by her. Sure, the spy was super scary and could probably break her in half, but Darcy was seriously pissed off at being left alone in that huge facility, half scared and wondering who else had survived. It wasn't fair, damnit, and Darcy was going to get some damn answers if her damn life depended on it. Damn.

Natasha continued to urge her back into the building, the team behind her masked and unrecognizable. Darcy allowed it only so far as the lobby before jerking away and staring down the team, waiting for an explanation.

With a deep breath, Natasha finally relented, "The spread of infection is contained, and every available agent is scouring the city for leftovers, putting them down. You were left in your room for your own protection, Ms. Lewis."

"Uh huh," Darcy shot back sarcastically, "I was unconscious with no guard and the doors were unlocked."

Natasha's brows dropped over a frowning expression, "What happened to your guard?"

"The hell if I know," Darcy replied, barely concealing her anger.

With fast steps, Natasha was at the elevator; gun out, while she waited for the doors to open. Darcy shoved in beside her, mimicking the more experienced agent's actions in keeping her weapon at the ready. They rode down to her floor and Darcy had to inch out into the hall as Natasha did a scan of the space.

"They're gone," she whispered.

"Told ya," Darcy replied, smiling when Natasha shot her an exacerbated look. They paced the hall several times, and there was nothing to indicate that the guard had done anything but simply walked away. Returning to the elevator, Natasha tapped out a code and they rode several floors lower, the doors opening to the control room. Darcy tried not to feel frustrated that Natasha could get into that floor and she couldn't, though it really didn't seem fair since Darcy had been in the field, too.

Coulson was the first to approach, his face stoic, "You're awake."

"And her security team is gone," Natasha added.

Brows dropping, Coulson jerked his phone out of his pocket and dialed a short set of numbers. He held it to his hear for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket. "Pull up the video feed for sector seven. Find out where that team went."

Feeling that there was a little too much emphasis on the lack of security team—she was perfectly fine—Darcy watched the feed curiously. The camera was pointed at her door, and there was a pair of guards standing nearby with very large guns held across their bodies. One minute they were there, and the next they weren't, there wasn't a trace of them having stood at the ready. Coulson played it back several times, locking in on the frame-by-frame. From one frame to the next they were simply gone, and even though Darcy squinted at the screen for several seconds she couldn't see what had happened.

Coulson leaned back from the screen, folding his arms across his chest in thought, and "Fascinating. Send the feed down to forensics and find out if it's been tampered with. I want results in an hour." He then turned to Darcy, "Let's get you to a secure location."

Unsure, Darcy followed the group once again to a well hidden set of doors that opened to brightly lit tunnel. They passed through several turns before Coulson used a thumbprint scanner to open a set of large metal doors. Inside sat most of the Avengers team overlooking something on a large table touch screen. Tony was poking at the display with a stylus, altering the image with quick, precise movements. He looked up as she entered and she noticed a large bruise on his forehead and a gash along his cheeks, but he was still smiling as if the world was peachy keen.

"Welcome back, sleeping beauty," he said, setting the stylus down. "Heard you took out the big bad."

Darcy shrugged, "Not really. I passed out."

"Still," he amended with a tilt of his head, "Nice work. Blueberry?"

Tentatively, Darcy took the proffered fruit, "Thanks."

Seeming pleased, Tony shifted his attention away from Darcy to the group, "Okay, let's update. We're missing three sets of teams now."

"Four," Coulson interjected. "Darcy's security team was abducted, too."

"Four," Tony counted off, "And we've got… nothing. Even the sky twins are stumped."

Thor and Loki looked surprised at being called out, but to their credit, there was no immediate retribution. Darcy guessed that Loki had gotten more than one jab in and this was just one in a long line of insults and Thor was going to speak man-to-god with him later. She hoped that someone had their phone on them to record that conversation.

The Cap stepped forward and Darcy was shell shocked to see him not in uniform, exactly, but in body armor similar to her own. He had adopted the garb of the government and it suited him in a weird kind of way, though Darcy still thought he looked pretty epic in the cowl.

"Could this be the work of Lucan?"

Loki pressed his fingertips to his chin in thought, "I doubt it. He was quite dead when we left him."

"Would it be possible for him to recover?" Thor asked. "The magic he was using was potent and powerful."

"I quite honestly could not conjecture on the subject," Loki responded. "But, I suppose with the magnitude of necromancy he was using, Lucan could have survived. Although, there is very little of Lucan left in the creature we saw in the tunnels. I cannot say for certain that what we are dealing with is the teacher I once knew."

"That's for damn sure," came a voice from above and Agent Barton dropped down to join the group. "And we've got a sighting downtown."

"Lucan?" Coulson asked with something that was akin to hope.

"The missing teams," Clint replied, "He tied them to the sculpture of the mayor, I'm guessing for bait."

Coulson spurred into action, phone at his ear, "I want six teams ready in two minutes on a rescue assignment. Call director Fury and let him know we found our missing agents. I want birds in the air and eyes on all escape routes."

By the time Dracy's brain kicked in, Tony was already being suited up and Coulson was moving her to a new location. She tried to say her goodbyes to the group, but there was little time before the doors closed on them. Coulson opened another set of doors, much larger and stronger than the previous set and gestured inside.

"Stay here. We'll retrieve you when it's over."

"But, I can help," Darcy asserted fiercely.

"Not this time," he countered. "I won't lose any more personnel in this. You'll stay right here and keep Dr. Foster company while you wait."

"What?" Darcy drawled, her attention moving to the rest of the room. Coulson took advantage of her distraction, using it to slip from the room so that she couldn't form a protest. She made a mental note to taunt him later about escaping her wrath. Testing the doors, she was unsurprised to find them locked and so she turned from them in resignation, joining Jane on the couch.

"'Sup," she said with a lazy nod.

"I'm going to kill Thor when I get out of here!" Jane burst out in the tell-tale sign of repressed anger. "First, he goes off to save the world and doesn't even tell me he's in the city. Then, he turns right around and leaves for six months with his delinquent brother—sorry, Darcy—and finally, he sticks me in this surgical steel box while he once again goes off to prevent an apocalypse."

Darcy nodded knowingly, commiserating with her friend, "I know the feeling. At least you were conscious for the last bit. I woke up and thought I was in the new resident evil movie."

"Right!" Jane nearly shouted, "I swear, when this is over, I'm quitting my job and moving to Maui."

"You'd miss it," Darcy replied, "All this adventure stuff is pretty awesome, though, right?"

"It really is," Jane agreed, "But it still sucks."

"Totally agree, my friend." Darcy sighed, "Totally agree."

**And Coulson has reached his limit for Darcy's participation in the mission, not that I blame him. Let me know what you think-y'all know reviews make the chapters roll out faster. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Onward!**

The wait was decidedly boring and Darcy had to resort to pacing the length of the room over and over to keep from clawing at the doors in desperation. Jane sat rather compliantly on the couch after calming down long enough to start planning her vengeance, though her foot bounced with agitation once in a while. Both women were mildly offended at having been left out of the final fight, one more so than the other, and both women were going to have a 'talk' with someone before the end of it all. Darcy hoped Thor would survive.

"What is happening out there, do you think?" Darcy asked, throwing herself back onto the couch in resignation.

Jane shrugged elegantly, "I have no idea. But, if Tony uses my laser sight mechanism without my permission, Pepper will have to find another way to have kids."

Laughing at the threat, Darcy patted Jane's arm comfortingly, "I'm sure he's already thought of that and has found a way to circumvent your wrath. Tony can be pretty slippery."

"Tell me about it," Jane replied dryly. "You know what's bad? We don't even know what is going on up there. They could be failing utterly and we would be stuck down here until the generators failed and the doors unlocked."

Darcy nodded sagely, "But they won't fail. They're totally superheroes and Lucan is the villain. The villain always dies at the end, that's just how it goes."

"Darcy, this isn't a movie."

"Yeah," she whispered in reply, "But it sure feels like one sometimes."

They sat in silence for a few moments until Jane's face brightened forcefully. "So," she issued suggestively, "Tell me about Loki."

Darcy raised a brow, "Um, he's pretty cool."  
"That's it?" Jane asked. "You've been working with him intimately this whole time and all you've got it 'he's cool?' Out with it, Darcy! There's no one in the building to listen."

Feeling a blush rise to her cheeks, Darcy ducked her head and pushed her hair from her face. "I mean, the magic thing is totally awesome and he's funny, and so smart, and I go all tingly and-he-may-have-already-seen-me-half-naked." The last portion was said in a rush of air that left Darcy inhaling deeply to right herself.

"Oh, my god," Jane crowed, "Why didn't you _say_ _something?"_

"I just did!"

Jane scoffed, "You know what I mean, before the end of the world started."

"I don't know, Jane," Darcy began with a slight tinge of sarcasm, "Maybe because I was preparing for the end of the freaking world."

"Point," Jane replied, "But still, I thought we were friends."

Darcy felt some guilt at the sorry tone with which Jane spoke, knowing that the stress of the situation had separated them for far too long. Jane was busy being a super smart scientist and Darcy was busy trying to keep out of the way and navigate Loki's magic. She slouched into the cushions, wallowing in her misery at being a bad friend.

"Dude, I'm sorry," she said finally.

"Don't worry about it," Jane replied, subdued. "Things got crazy and who could blame us for getting caught up in it."

"Yeah," Darcy breathed. "On a side note, I may sleep with Loki if the opportunity presents itself."

"Darcy!"

"What?" Darcy called back, her eyes wide with innocence. "He's hot, Jane. By the way, does Thor have magical capabilities?"

Jane's deep blush gave her away and Darcy shook the woman for details, her spidey-senses tingling with the knowledge that there would be some juicy details coming. "He says that he's not good at it, but... wow, when he gets going." She leaned down and lowered her voice, "I'm talking literal fireworks, Darcy. Literal explosions of light. It's cosmic."

Laughing, Darcy smiled so wide her cheeks began to hurt, "Now I'm definitely going to sleep with him."

Jane laughed in turn, but her face schooled itself a little too quickly, "You should be careful so that you don't get hurt." Her tone was that of a big sister, one Darcy hadn't heard very much since Jane stopped being her boss and started working with the brothers in science developing the tools necessary to keep the world safe. It made Darcy miss the uncomplicated life of a college student, just trying to get her credits completed and get out of the institution of higher education.

Rolling her eyes, Darcy asserted with confidence, "I know, I know. I'll be careful. However, I can't blame him if he falls in love with my super-awesome self." The words were reflective of her inner bravado (which was, amazingly enough, still intact), and there was a small part of her that wondered if Loki felt anywhere close to the depth of feeling that she felt for him. Those feelings, however, would be locked away with an extra tight seal until she could be sure—and left to die if they happened to be unrequited.

They chatted about this and that for what seemed like hours, but Darcy couldn't really tell as her cell phone had been conveniently lost amidst the chaos. With no other way of keeping time, the minutes ticked by with excruciating tediousness, leaving Darcy constantly on edge. When the huge doors shifted, unlocking, they stood in unison, and Darcy had the urge to pull her pistol just in case. It would have been unnecessary, however, as Coulson stepped through tiredly.

"Are you okay?" Darcy blurted out, moving to him out of instinct. The man looked seriously beaten down, though there wasn't a visible mark on him. The lines in his face were so much deeper than they had been just a short time before and there was this look in his eyes that made Darcy think something awful had happened. She was right, as it turned out. Coulson spoke in monotone, one hand on her arm as he explained that Lucan had taken half the teams Shield had sent in a single strike and that the Avengers took a huge wallop in the meantime. The madman had been defeated, but at a cost. Loki had used an immense amount of very powerful and unstable magic to bind and shatter Lucan's necromancy, nearly destroying the whole city block in the blast. They found him unconscious in the rubble, alive but unresponsive.

Darcy took in the information, sliding down to the floor with Coulson supporting her weight to ease the fall. She felt this sense of loss pervade her senses, this sense of responsibility despite the fact that she hadn't been in the fact—perhaps _because_ she hadn't been there. If she had been…maybe he would be awake and smiling at her in that frustrating way that meant he thought he had won whatever argument or debate they happened to be having that day.

"Take me to him," she said, forcing her body to standing in a wobbly movement. "I need to see him for myself."

Coulson nodded absently, one hand at her back while he ushered her from the room through the tunnels to the main conference room. The ride in the elevator was stiff and quiet, Jane on one side and Coulson on the other, both wondering if her stoic expression was determination or shock. With confident steps, Darcy moved through Tony's still empty lab to the medical room where Thor was standing over his brother, looking as if his world had fallen apart. And she guessed that, for him, it had. Thor had spent so much time and energy trying to prove to Loki that his actions meant nothing and that the older sibling still loved him, that they could still exist together in brotherly camaraderie. To have it come to this, Loki left unresponsive in a battle that Thor had asked him to fight, it had to be devastating to the Thunder god.

Darcy stepped up to the bed, bracing her hands on the rail and looking at her friend's peaceful, expressionless face. He looked like he was simply sleeping, resting from one of their sessions or something. Tentatively, she reached out and touched his hand, calling to the magic and finding a complete lack of any magical resonance. Darcy jerked away, tears forming in her eyes as she came to the realization that there was simply nothing left. What she was looking at was a shell compared to the person she knew and loved.

"Can we bring him back?" She asked, her voice cracking.

"I do not know," Thor intoned heavily. "I will return with him to Asgard to see if our healers can do something. That is all I know to do."

Darcy nodded, "How long will you be gone?"

Thor shook his head, the blonde of his hair falling down over his massive shoulders, "Time between the realms holds no meaning, and I do not know what the healers will need." His crystalline eyes focused on her, "But, I will report back regularly on his status."

Darcy nodded again, moving to sit in a chair by the bed. "I'll stay with him while you make the preparations. He shouldn't be alone."

She could tell that Thor wanted to argue, but a small cough from Jane stopped his protest mid-breath. Instead, he merely placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently in the only comfort he could offer. He and Jane stepped away from the room, speaking quietly while Coulson remained in place. For a minute or so, Darcy was left to her own devices, her gaze following the lines of Loki's features while his chest rose with each breath. And then Coulson was drawing a chair to her side and leaning his forearms against his knees.

"Tell me about him," he said to the silence.

Darcy flicked her eyes to the agent, noting that his expression held none of the facetious air of some of the other agents when Loki walked into the room, their perception of his eternally tainted by hismisguided actions upon the earth. He simply looked curious and willing to listen, brows lifted and eyes wide and welcoming. She sighed deeply.

"There are things about him that I really like," she began. It felt a little too close to the surface to go on in that vein, so she sidled off on a tangent. "He liked puzzles and games, and he's got this mind that moves a mile a minute. I can see that he really loves his brother, despite the fact that there's bad blood between them. A part of me thinks that they will fix things soon enough, if Loki would stop being to freaking stubborn all the time."

She twisted her hands together, thinking. "There are some serious insecurity issues, but I think we were making progress in that, though who really knows. He's so comfortable on the outside, wherever he is, and it's like he adapts to every situation as it comes along. And, I admire that about him. I admire his wit, his intelligence, and I think I like him a lot more than he likes me, but that's okay because he treats me like a really good friend. That's more than I could possibly ask for from a god."

Darcy wasn't sure how long she went on like this, a running monologue of her thoughts on Loki too long stuffed in the back of her mind. By the time she was done, there were tears in her eyes and Coulson was handing her tissue after tissue while she alternated between crying and basically ranting against the injustice of the world, using vocabulary that surprised her in their eloquence. When the words ran out and her mind quieted, Coulson rubbed her back soothingly and didn't say anything when her tears drenched his jacket as she cried.

"This is so stupid," Darcy hiccupped. "I didn't even know him that long and I'm crying like I just lost my best friend."

"Sometimes," Coulson began, "We know our best friends instantly, and even though they aren't with us for long, they leave a lasting impression."

Darcy looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, "You know, that could be in a fortune cookie."

The preparations were made in record time and before Darcy could properly bring herself to let go, Thor was carrying Loki through worlds, leaving nothing but empty air where such binding used to be. It took her a whole day to stop crying incessantly, and three more to stop the tears from occurring sporadically at her desk or while she was in the shower. Coulson kept her close, only sending her back to her apartment a few weeks later, when the rest of the city had come back from their stint in government hold up. There were rumors about what had happened during those long vacant nights, but Shield was keeping them at bay, sending in interference and pitting one analyst against another in a fascinating game of whodunit.

As she pushed through her door, pulling the key from the lock, Darcy was suddenly struck with how normal everything looked. Her movies and ipod dock were in their usual place, her crummy TV and DVD player still sitting in front of the couch. Nothing had been touched, and yet everything had been altered so irrevocably that she spent the next several months obsessively rearranging the room so that _something_ could look different and she wouldn't feel quite so insane.

Work started up in similar fashion in that Darcy would show up, push paper across from Coulson for several hours before heading home alone to wallow in Chinese takeout. She couldn't go back to the pizzeria quite yet, but she glanced at it wistfully every time she passed. Just when she thought things were beginning to take on a routine, Thor showed up in a blaze of thunder and wind with a report that was dismal. Loki continued to remain in a comatose state and the healers had hit a wall as to what to try next. Darcy took the information in and managed to walk away with dignity before clocking out early and spending the night curled up in a pile of pillows and blankets, once again hit with the knowledge that maybe she was at fault for his current situation, her guilt unassailable.

When the winter came, Darcy reveled in the bulky sweaters and thick coats that would hide her weight loss from the questioning eyes of Coulson and Jane. She retreated into wearing her thick rimmed glasses all the time and several scarves around her neck. No one said anything, but she could feel them noticing when she entered or left a room. One day, while filling out more forms that dulled her senses to nothing, a pair of booted feet stomped up to her desk followed by a pair of hands pressing on the wood before her determinedly.

Darcy looked up to see Natasha standing rather intensely in front of her, "Can I help you?"

Natasha's brows rose fractionally, "Let's go."

"Go where?"

"Now, agent." Her tone brooked no argument, and Darcy was disinclined to follow, but she did it anyways, surprisingly interested in seeing what the reclusive agent wanted from her.

They walked through past the armory into a training room where Natasha turned on a pin to face her. "Off with the layers."

Squinting, Darcy folded her arms in front of her, "When did you become my boss?"

This drew a full smile from Natasha, which automatically spurred on lots of warning bells that Darcy was fairly sure she would have listened to several months earlier. As it was, she was tired and didn't want to be there when she could be at home with her internet. Therefore, Darcy was keen on ignoring the safety devices that had been ingrained in her since starting at Shield Headquarters.

So quick that Darcy barely had time to flinch, Natasha's hand sprang outwards and had one of her scarves from around her neck, holding it before her in an almost taunt. She tossed it aside and when Darcy turned to retrieve it, she took the second one, too. Sighing, Darcy shot the woman an annoyed look, lifting her hands and removing her coat before the other agent could take that without her permission, too.

"The sweater, too," Natasha called out and Darcy had the distinct urge to flip her the bird. She complied reluctantly, lifting the layers which left her in a pair of too-big slacks and a camisole. Natasha eyed her calculatingly, her mouth pressed into a line. Then, she turned and opened a locker, tossing Darcy a bundle of clothing.

"Put these on."

While the agent turned to give her privacy, Darcy slipped out of her work clothes and pulled on the work out wear. It fit a little too tight to her slimmed down frame so that she could feel the self-consciousness rising in the back of her mind. When she was finished, Natasha turned back to her and led her to a punching bag. Silently, Darcy allowed her hands to be taped and a pair of boxing gloves to be slipped over her wrists and tied tightly.

"Punch it," Natasha ordered and Darcy gave a half hearted effort. She scoffed, "I know you have more than that in you. Punch the bag."

And so it went for several hours, Natasha urging her to hit harder and correcting her techniques lightly between steps until Darcy's body burned. When Natasha finally relented and pulled the gloves from her hands, Darcy had to sit gingerly on the floor just to keep from throwing up with the exertion of the exercise.

"We'll do this again tomorrow, don't bother going to the office. Just come straight here and get changed." At Darcy's confused look, she continued, "I've already cleared it with Coulson."

That seemed to be that. For several weeks, Natasha would teach Darcy how to punch and kick and stretch until the ache in her body masked the ache in her heart and mind. Surprisingly, she began to look forward to the sessions, her body beginning to recognize the exercise and release endorphins to accompany the work out. Darcy would move on from the bag to working with Natasha hand to hand, though the more experienced agent would inevitably go easy on her.

One day, when Darcy was on the floor, too tired to go on, Natasha blindsided her. "You want to talk about Loki."

Darcy jerked upright so fast that her head spun, "What?"

"Talk about it, Darcy," Natasha urged, her pale eyes entreating her.

Defensive, Darcy replied with a short, "There's nothing to talk about. He's gone."

"He is gone, but you aren't."

Shoving her body through the ropes of the ring, Darcy paced away to grab her towel and wipe the sweat from her face. "I know that."

"Do you? Seems to me like you went right along with him the way you've been acting." Her tone was soft, but the words struck home far more easily than any overt verbal barb.

"What the fuck would you know about it?" Darcy hissed lowly, her anger rising despite their familiarity and tentative friendship.

Natasha smiled gently, "I know all about loss, and the guilt you're feeling is only going eat at you until there's nothing left." She sat down on the bench facing her, "I didn't know him very well, but he didn't seem the type to want you pining for him down here. Especially when he may never recover from the coma."

Darcy stared her down for a long time, feeling her heart cracking open in her chest, "I miss him."

"I know. Honestly, I'm sure surprised you haven't filled Coulson's office with fifties blues and emo-rock medleys."

Shaking her head with the smallest of smiles, Darcy continued, "I haven't even had one dream about him, not one. And there are no pictures, Shield has locked all the video feeds—it's like he didn't even exist, like I never knew him. I still feel him, though, all the time."

At this, the dam holding Darcy's emotions in check shattered and she began sobbing into her taped hands. Natasha watched her cry, letting Darcy carry herself back to composure over a long period of time. Then, she stood and addressed Darcy with a firm tone.

"Tomorrow you go back to work for Coulson. I don't want to see your self-destructive behavior continue, or I'll kick your ass back in here and we'll start all over. Clear?"

Darcy nodded, feeling all of a sudden quite grateful for the literal and metaphorical can of whoop ass that had been unloaded on her over the last few weeks. She gradually went back to wearing her skirts and heels to work in an effort to bring her mind back to some form of normalcy, and even managed to edge her way inside the pizzeria for a little slice of heaven. It had been a year since Loki had disappeared into the cosmos, and she was finally recovering from the sudden and heartbreaking loss of someone who had opened the doors to her soul through electrified magic and easy, charming smiles.

It was then that Darcy had her first dream about Loki; the pathways of her mind finally open to his presence and memory. She was lying in her bed and the room was bathed in darkness so complete that she couldn't see more than a few feet in front of her. It didn't occur to her at first that she would be dreaming, but as she turned over in an attempt to get more comfortable, Darcy caught sight of Loki sprawled next to her beneath the sheets. He looked similarly confused as to why his presence had manifested in her bed, but only for a short moment. Then, he was smiling widely, reaching out to gather her against him in a fierce hug.

"I have missed you," he whispered hoarsely, his face pressed against the skin of her neck.

Darcy swallowed back tears, knowing that she could cry later and this was a time for smiles and happiness. "Missed you, too. Not that I'm complaining, but how did you get here?"

Loki's eyes glanced towards the ceiling, his dark brows coming together in thought, "I have no idea."

"Maybe you're getting better," Darcy nearly exclaimed, hope springing forth unintentionally. "Did you wake up?"

"No," he replied softly. "I hear things, Thor visits occasionally, but I cannot wake."

Thinking rapidly, Darcy ran through a couple of ideas that ranged from comic books to sci-fi to Disney story lines, coming up with nothing to help him along. "I'm dreaming, right?"

Loki shrugged, "Possibly. Do you feel like you're dreaming?"

"I can't tell," she replied. Pressing her hands to his chest and arms, she ascertained that he wasn't exactly a ghost. "You feel real enough."

"Thank you," he replied with a chuckle. "I must say I am glad to conscious again."

Darcy narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious, "Are you really here?"

His response was a proud expression and a pursing of his mouth, "I see Coulson has been working on your inherent trusting nature."

She rolled her eyes, "Coulson actually handed me off to Natasha for about two and a half months."

His eyebrows rose to his hairline, "Really? Well done, Coulson. I thought he might never let your training go to another."

Darcy shrugged, settling down into his embrace and pulling the covers up to her chin, "I don't think he had much of a choice. I wasn't exactly responsive to normal procedures."

"I am sorry," Loki replied lowly. "It was necessary to expend all of my magic to defeat Lucan, and it would also be necessary to do it all over again even knowing the consequences." His voice faded near the end of his apology, leaving Darcy scrambling for a reply and unable to speak as she hurtled back towards wakefulness.

Darcy woke feeling less rested than when she had gone to sleep and in the grogginess, she automatically reached out to the empty space beside her. Confused, she rubbed at the sheet, feeling no residual heat or impression from the mattress that would have signaled that Loki had been there the previous night. She tried and failed to suppress the slowly growing disappointment that rose inevitably in her chest. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, Darcy ran a shower, her mind running over the strange dream a few times and wondering if it was simply a product of her letting go of his memory or if he was actually in her mind. She was willing to believe either side of the argument at this point, given the fact that she had been show first hand Loki's magical abilities.

At the office, Darcy allowed herself to interact with her coworkers on something more than a superficial level and in the next week she actually went down to speak with Jane on her lunch. Every night, however, she went to bed hoping to catch another glimpse of Loki, even if it was just a false memory born of her longing for him. She wasn't the kind of girl to pray, and it irked her that she always seemed to be the one chasing the man down, but before bed as she lay staring at the ceiling Darcy whispered to the darkness her need to see him again.

On day seven, she wound up sitting on a mattress that had to be made of rainbows and marshmallows because it conformed to her curves with such perfection that she never actually wanted to set her bottom on any other surface, ever. As she observed the room around her, Darcy became quite aware that she wasn't in Kansas anymore, and probably not anywhere within the city—possibly nowhere on earth. The walls were glowing with latent power that she could feel in bone deep resonations that skittered along her nerves, near setting them on fire. The floors hummed with power, and the room radiated with flows of magic that called out to her on every level. It was so indescribably good to feel magic surrounding her once again.

Movement in her periphery turned her attention and there was Loki, sitting up against a pile of pillows, smiling at her curiously.

"This is becoming my favorite habit," he said, reaching out to haul her to his side.

Darcy went willingly, her eyes scanning the lavish accommodations, "I guess we're at your place this time."

"Indeed," Loki replied. "How did you manage it?"

"Manage it?" Darcy crowed, "I did nothing of the sort and I'm blaming you for dragging me through dream worlds to babysit."

He scoffed in mock insult, "Well, if you're so unhappy to visit with an invalid, I would be happy to send you back."

Drawing away with a gasp, Darcy rolled her eyes, "You'd miss me, I guarantee it."

"Yes, I would," Loki said carefully, running a hand through her curls. "How long has it been?"

"A week," she replied quickly, "I haven't told anyone—do you think I should try to contact Thor?"

An elegant shrug shifted against her body, the lean muscles rolling in the motion. "I suppose you should."

Picking at the buttons of his sleep shirt, Darcy wondered aloud, "Do you think it means anything? I mean, it's been a year and all of a sudden I can speak with you when I sleep, obviously something changed. And we have the affinity thing going for us, but why now? Why a year later?"

Loki shook his head warily, "I cannot answer those questions, Darcy. All I know is that I have been in darkness, save for the moments I spend with you."

Sighing deeply, Darcy lifted to sitting, running her hands through her hair, "What if I can't fix it? What if all I can do is see you here, and you're stuck in la-la land for the rest of ever?"

Wrapping his arms around her form, Loki pressed his nose to the skin behind her ear, "We will deal with that when it comes. Speak with Thor, and come see me again soon. You have no idea how incredibly dull it is listening to the sounds of maids cleaning the room around me for hours on end. Although the gossip is infinitely better when they think you cannot hear them."

Much like the last time, Darcy woke feeling worse than when she went to sleep, her mind whirring with the fading dream and the new mission before her, filling her with a sudden and unexpected determination. Squinting against the lights of the room, Darcy trudged to her desk and waited for Coulson to show. He had a habit of coming in at varying times throughout the morning whether from a morning meeting or from a mission that ran far too long, but he never failed to show by half past ten and it was nearing that time when Darcy began to feel slightly anxious. Tapping her pencil against the notepad, Darcy alternated between watching the door and watching the clock while making failing attempts at performing her job functions.

Finally, Coulson strolled into the office with long, confident strides that she had begun to associate with a mission gone right, Darcy jumped to attention immediately, wringing her hands together as she waited for him to get situation so that she could bombard him with lots of new information that she probably should have told him two weeks ago. It was water under the bridge, as far as she was concerned, because none of it had seemed worth speaking about—and, to be honest, she liked having that private secret all to herself a little too much. The little secret, however, had now become an imminent need that required she begin to bring the rest of the team in on it, especially Thor.

"So, Agent Bossman," Darcy began tentatively, "I kind of need help."

Coulson looked up at her from over the rim of his coffee cup, holding her gaze before setting the cup down gently, "Do I need to kill someone?"

"No!" She exclaimed in response, "It's really not that bad, but then it kind of is, and maybe I should have told you sooner. But, I didn't know what to do and I was totally unprepared to see Loki again."

On her next inhale, Coulson interrupted, "You've seen Loki?"

She shrugged, "In a really weird, unintentional I might add, way."

"How?"

"We're apparently sharing dreams because that's what happens when someone goes into a coma," she answered sardonically.

Coulson almost cracked a smile, and Darcy took it as a minor victory while fighting the urge to whip out her phone and take a picture for posterity's sake. He considered her admission for several long minutes, and then tapped out something unseen on his computer. Rising, he stepped around his desk and sat back on it, folding his hands across his chest.

"Tell me everything," he said.

Darcy rolled out with the story, leaving a few details out (such as the fact that their meeting place of choice seemed to be their respective beds). Then, she moved on to her thoughts on maybe seeing if Thor could be contacted to see if there had been movement on the other side. Coulson pursed his lips for a moment, pulling his phone out of his pockets and speaking in low tones to someone dialed on the other side.

"Okay," he sighed, straightening invisible wrinkles on his suit. "I'm having someone contact Asgard and hopefully we will hear something soon." His expression, when it finally settled on her hopeful face, was curious. "How are you?"

Darcy thought about it for a moment, wondering what the most appropriate response should be. She settled on a shrug, "I'm okay."

"Are you really?" He asked, his gaze direct and a little suspicious.

"Absolutely," she replied a little too quickly. "I mean, it's pretty messed up but I'm getting used to this kind of stuff being the status quo around here."

Coulson very nearly rolled his eyes, "Try working here for the better part of your life, then talk to me about status quo. I'm glad you're alright, though. You took his injury pretty hard."

"I know," Darcy whispered, "Still not sure this isn't a figment of my imagination."

Shrugging, Coulson shoved from his desk, "We'll find out soon enough."

They didn't find out soon enough—in fact, it took two whole days of waiting for Darcy to get any kind of news that Thor had been contacted and even then the message was scant. She sighed as she read through the email again, leaning back in her chair and propping her heeled feet on the computer tower below her desk. Anxious for their next move, Darcy examined the finer details of the ceiling tiles while she ran through what would happen when she saw him next. In one fantasy, he was alive and regaining strength; in another, he was still lying half dead in that glamorous, shining bed of pillows. Neither seemed particularly palatable, but she allowed each to run a course of options, wondering if things would go back to the way they were before the fight or if their relationship had been irrevocably changed.

So caught up in her thoughts, Darcy failed to hear her name the first three times Coulson called out to her from the door. When the words finally rang through, she jerked to attention.

"Follow me," he said, spinning from the doorway.

Sliding out of the seat, Darcy skipped a few steps until she had caught up with him, taking her regular position at his side in the elevator. Unexpectedly, they were heading to the lowest floor of the building, a floor that had security clearance so far above her head that Darcy may never see it again after this instance. She, therefore, made a mental note to memorize everything that happened as soon as she stepped out into the room.

The 'awe' in awesome hit Darcy with such force that she had to step back into the elevator for a moment, lest her eyes melt inside their respective sockets. The room glowed with bright electrical power, painted in shining swaths of color that spread out in prismatic shapes all over the walls and floors. At the center of the room, set deeply into a pit of steel and concrete, stood a large circular structure that shuddered rhythmically. Stepping out into the room, Darcy forced her gaping mouth to close, swallowing back the flood of questions as Coulson led her to a dock of monitors.

Bent over one of the screens, Darcy recognized the petite body of Jane, five pens stuck haphazardly in her ponytail and her brow furrowed in concentration. When her attention finally drifted upwards, she smiled widely at Darcy, urging her former assistant over.

"I'm so excited that you finally get to see this," she whispered.

Darcy blinked, whispering similarly, "What am I seeing?"

Eyes sparkling, Jane replied simply, "The Bifrost."

Brows hitting her hairline, Darcy glanced over at Coulson, who was leaned over the console, tapping out instructions to the program. From the center of the room, the structure began to hum and whir with power and Darcy was struck with the knowledge that she was going to be seeing something that few others had seen. She was going to witness the opening of a portal between the realms, a gateway to other dimensions. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the theme for the Twilight Zone played softly and ominously enough that she began to feel a little more than nervous.

The structure buzzed, filling with a light so intense that Darcy had to hide her eyes behind her hands and hair, squeezing them shut to protect her sensitive corneas. The air thickened with static, sending shockwaves through the ground at her feet, the vibration tickling them through her heels. It continued for only five or six seconds before the light faded and the room quieted to peaceful calm. Lifting her eyes, Darcy scanned the room for explanation, bewildered when she caught sight of Thor striding confidently towards her.

With a girlish squeal, Jane shot forward into Thor's arms and Darcy was warmed at the sight of her friend's happiness. Thor embraced Jane tightly, his face soft with the affection he seemed to feel so deeply for her. Then, his eyes opened and focused on Darcy and she knew that he knew about her new encounters and was expecting an explanation of some kind. With the little bit of time she had left, Darcy racked her brain to see if she could come up with some kind of logical, cohesive idea about the how and why of sharing dreams with a demi-god. Fretfully, she came up with zilch.

Thor released Jane, allowing her feet to once again touch the ground, "Lady Darcy, it seems we have much to discuss."

Feeling a little shy, Darcy averted her gaze, "Um, yeah, about that."

"Worry not," he assured her, a heavy hand falling on her shoulder, "I've no expectation of you other than your story." Thor leaned down, "You have given me hope for my brother."

They sat in a private study, Coulson discreetly texting on his phone nearby, while Darcy relayed her slightly edited story to Thor. He considered her words, leaning heavily into the plush armchair while she spoke. At the end of it all, there was a silence so long and awkward that Darcy began to think that maybe Thor had begun to think she lost her mind. When he finally, _finally_, spoke, however, Darcy could feel the tension being relieved from her chest as a physical weight.

"When the Son of Coul spoke to me of your dream sharing with my brother, I visited our library intent on discovering the source. Affined pairs, Lady Darcy, are not common amongst the realms and the sharing of power, no matter how small, leaves a mark so deep it cannot be removed by mortal means." He sighed deeply, "I believe Loki is reaching out through you, through your affinity, and I hope—with your permission, of course—to bring him back with it."

Darcy's jaw went slack for the second time that day, knowing that she had no magical power of her own and had been possibly sapping Loki during their exchanges. And, hadn't Loki said that affinity was normal? She closed her mouth with an audible click, thinking about the level of skill that would be necessary to even attempt the task.

"Dude," she replied earnestly, "I'm no Criss Angel."

**Okay, so only a little interaction here, but I promise, promise, promise there will be more next chapter. **


	8. Chapter 8

**The plot for this story keeps taking odd turns in my head, and this chapter (and the next one) was very difficult to write. I ask that you bear with me while I transition towards the end of the work as it will take a little while longer for each chapter to come out. I just want this to be written well because you've all been so sweet in your reviews.**

Darcy vomited all over the bi-frost site, her head in her hands and her body bent at an awkward angle as she tasted her lunch for the second time that day. She groaned into a literal rainbow of a bridge, squeezing her eyelids shut so that they didn't roll right out of her skull. A shadow passed her swaying vision and Darcy felt a large hand drop its weight on her shoulder. Thor inquired about her health hesitantly and Darcy had to wave him off as she pushed shakily to standing. She had just traveled through dimensions on a magical bridge made of rainbows—it would be inhuman not to throw up.

When she got her bearings, Darcy peered around at scenery that was coated in shadows and darkness. The sun on Asgard had set long ago, leaving the shining city twinkling with leftover reflections from the rising moon. Thor urged her forward carefully, his eyes searching her for further injury despite her protestations that she was, in fact, pretty alright considering the circumstances. They wouldn't go to Loki immediately as the Queen had requested (read: demanded) an audience with Darcy before she could make any attempt to bring Loki back.

Thor led her to a guest room, showing her inside with the slightest blush that she wasn't even going to try to decipher in her weakened state. Darcy thanked him tiredly; suddenly glad that she could rest a little and think about what she could possibly do that the Asgardian healers could not. Shrugging off a duffel bag that had been very much worth the investment, Darcy slipped from her socks, shoes, and jeans and tucked herself into the fluffy covers. Once settled, she stared at the ceiling, brows coming together as she noticed tiny encrusted stones set deep into the rock. Belatedly, she rolled her eyes, remembering that this was a real life castle and not a Motel 8. It made her feel out of place and a little intrusive upon the space since she was not exactly royalty. That thought led to remembering that Loki was a real life honest to demi-god prince, which further increased her apprehension.

Falling asleep was an easy affair in the comfort and relaxation of the room, so much so that it took Darcy longer than normal to realize that she was dreaming. Standing in the middle of a large expanse of blooming flowers, she turned in circles in an attempt to figure out where, exactly, she was and why she couldn't see past the small ring of flowers. The perfume of the blooms at her sides was sweet, succulent, and luxurious. Their petals brushed against her skin softly as she turned, adding another layer to the infinitely sensory experience.

"Darcy," came a voice from over her shoulder. Swinging around smoothly, she peered through the foliage to catch a wisp of green fabric as a figure moved towards her.

"Hey, Loki," she called out in recognition, feeling more than a little relieved that this was going to be a good dream and not one where she was lost for hours on end while being slowly enveloped in an increasingly thick mist of water vapor. That particular dream had been much more prevalent before Natasha took the time to kick her ass back to normalcy. He nodded regally in response, hands slipping forward to part the blossoms so that he could step forward into the empty space.

"Do you know where we are?" Darcy asked, her eyes turning upwards to unfamiliar constellations, not exactly the smartest move because she hardly ever recognized Earth's stars.

Loki smirked, "The castle gardens. Correct me if I err, but this feels like your mind that we have entered. How do you know where these paths lay?"

"Thor brought me to Asgard to help you," she replied without a hint of artifice, though her cheeks tinted red since she hadn't exactly cleared the plan with him before barreling ahead. "We passed through them on the way to my room." She glanced around, almost proud, "I'm surprised I remembered this through the nausea and dry heaving."

Loki was at her side immediately, gripping her fiercely, "You crossed the bifrost?"

"Crossed is an operative word, there," Darcy chuckled. "I mostly fell."

Eyes widening, Loki's face went from astonished to mischievous in slow, sensuous phases that emphasized each emotion and the transition between them beatifically. Darcy had to blink several times to kick start her brain back to regular functioning after several seconds of being completely mesmerized by the shifting of his expression. Blushing, she tucked her hair behind her ear in an attempt to draw her mind back away from how god-awful gorgeous he was every time he looked at her. She might be dreaming, but that didn't give her leeway to act of her desires even if he was all kinds of tempting.

"I seem to be consistently underestimating you," he drawled, hands dropping to her waist seemingly without thought.

Darcy smiled widely, "A lot of people do. Big mistake in my opinion."

"Indeed. It is a mistake I will not make again." His gaze grew intense, focused on her face until whatever words that had formed in her throat ran dry with the moment, stuck against her tongue like so much roughened sandpaper. As a reflex, Darcy licked her parched lips, her breath stilling as his eyes dropped to her mouth and remained for long seconds. The world around her pulled inward, bringing even the surrounding vegetation so close that Darcy could barely breathe in the space. Hesitating for only a moment, Loki dropped down to capture her mouth in a hard, searing kiss that had her rolling forwards on her toes to meet him. So surprised was she in the action that she almost thought that she was actually dreaming on her own, but the very real feeling of his mouth rubbing against hers in exhortation nixed that idea, sending it and her over the edge into oblivion.

Reaching up, Darcy gripped the edge of Loki's jacket, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss with a soft groan. She held tight even as her lungs burned for air, pressing her mouth against him again and again, drinking in the taste of him until she felt nearly high with it. Shifting his grip, Loki eased her back and away from him while something like pain passed over his features. Darcy allowed the movement with a petulant moan of protest, though her fingertips were still left embedded in the leather of his jacket.

With a deep breath, he was able to speak in a low, rasping voice that sent shudders through Darcy's body, "I have wanted to do that since I first saw you."

"Score one for Darcy," she replied with a sly smile. Then, she leaned forward, bracing her weight on his upper arms though he kept her at bay with the bent length of his forearms. "Do it again."

His smile pure seduction, Loki moved so quickly that he became a blur of motion, his lips on hers before she could draw her next breath. Taking advantage of her surprise, he slipped his tongue inside, running it along her own in a smooth roll of muscle that drew a whimper from her with frightening ease. Not to be outdone, Darcy wiggled her fingers between the folds of his jacket and tunic, running them over lines of muscle that she had never seen but knew as intimately as the back of her hand. She took pleasure in the soft sounds of approval that issued forth from the back of his throat, sighing into him as his hands tightened around her waist.

Waking, Darcy felt none of the residual symptoms of dream sharing, her body well rested and her mind clear. Absently, she checked the material of the mattress, wondering if she could snag a piece of it to take back home so Tony could analyze it and perhaps create a new prototype. After dressing, Darcy peered out into hallways, looking one way and then another. Who did she have to talk to about getting some breakfast? Her stomach rumbled quietly in despair a going much longer without a bagel and some cream cheese. She patted it in comfort, assuring the organ mentally that food would be on its way pronto.

Navigating the halls seemed pretty straightforward, but Darcy inevitably got a little lost and more than a little freaked out along the way. She peered around corners and out windows, hoping to find some kind of familiar ground with which she could scurry back to her room and wait like she was probably supposed to. That particular solution didn't pan out, leaving her leaning against a column, her head tilted to the ceiling and her eyes close tightly in defeat.

"I imagine you must have slept well, Lady Lewis."

The voice startled Darcy so violently that she let out a piercing shriek, shoving away from the column and reaching for the taser that wasn't there. Eyes wide, and to Darcy's ever-loving embarrassment, she spied a tall, willowy woman dressed in pure gold. Her eyes were clear and kind, her bearing regal, and to top it off she was wearing a crown. If there was ever a time for the ground to open wide and swallow her body whole, this would be it. It didn't, but Darcy was used to that kind of disappointment.

"I'm so sorry," she cried out, hands held up in surrender and placation.

"Accepted. Now, will you walk with me?" The woman replied.

Without another viable option, Darcy nodded, moving in step with her. They walked for a short while before turning a corner into a private library.

"My name is Frigga and Loki is my son," the woman asserted with some force. "Thor tells me that you share an affinity with him. He plans to use that affinity to wake his brother."

"Yeah," Darcy breathed, "About that. I don't know how to do…anything."

Brows raising, Frigga observed her with a shrewd glance that had Darcy shifting uncomfortably on her feet. "Regardless, Thor wishes you to try—I wish you to try."

"Of course," Darcy replied quickly. "I would never… not try." _God,_ could she be more lame in front of Loki's mom?

Frigga seemed to accept her intentions, one elegant hand sweeping out to offer her a chair. "Tell me, do you work with the mortal government team of which Thor speaks so highly?"

Settling into her seat, Darcy nodded absently, her eyes taking in the ornate wood carvings and the continued motif of the gemstones in the ceiling. "Uh huh," she said. "I'm Coulson's secretary."

"Coulson!" Frigga smiled, "Thor says he is an honorable man."

Returning her smile, Darcy replied, "He's really nice. He gave me a cushy desk job and I get a gun for, you know, emergency purposes."

"You wield weapons?" When Darcy smiled awkwardly and nodded, she continued, "Good. A female should know how to protect herself."

"That's what my dad used to say."

Frigga turned a small table around to display an assortment of unrecognizable fruits and something that looked vaguely like cheese. She filled a plate, offering it to Darcy who tried desperately to eat like a normal person and not inhale the food out of near starvation. The cheesy stuff was a little rubbery, but the fruit was absolutely divine—sweet, sour, and fresh. She finished the serving and set the plate aside, folding her hands in her lap while she waited for Frigga to finish serving herself a cup of (she assumed) tea.

"Would you consider yourself a friend of Loki'?" Frigga asked with almost too much nonchalance.

Darcy pursed her lips, hoping that her cheeks weren't stained with the burn she felt as she remembered their one and only kiss so far. "Yes, we're friends."

There was a twinkling in Frigga's eyes that very nearly had Darcy rolling hers—it seemed that mother's intuition was fierce this side of the bifrost. She sipped carefully at her tea, observing Darcy from head to foot in one slow glance. Darcy just managed to keep her body and hands still, though she desperately wished that she had put on some makeup or at least ran a straightening iron through her hair that morning before questing out into the unknown.

Thankfully, Thor pushed through the heavy doors a short while later, saving Darcy from further interrogation from Loki's mother. His smile was far too cheery for such an early hour, Darcy wanted to throw something at him, possibly Meu-Meu, if she could only lift the thing. The hug he gave his mother was achingly tender and his address to her was shining with hope and gratitude. Darcy had to look away, lest he see how filled with emotion she could get at the smallest, tiniest things in life. It was embarrassing enough that she blushed like an idiot around Frigga, but now Thor was making her eyes water, though she would claim she had something in them—like dust or a tree limb—before she would admit that she was every bit as happy to be in Asgard as he was pleased that she was going to try to bring Loki back from near death.

Thor sat in a nearby chair, his elbows pressed against his knees while he regarded her levelly. "I would like for you to make your first attempt this morning, if you have rested well."

Nodding enthusiastically, Darcy replied, "I'm game, what do you need me to do?"

The shrug that Thor answered with was about as noncommittal as they came, his broad shoulders simply rising about a quarter inch and falling naturally back into place. "Do what feels right."

"Okay," she drawled, knowing that this was probably going to be a huge experiment in trial and error. She wished they had brought Tony along, or maybe Jane, or better yet, Dr. Banner. The man had the patience of Job and twice as many solutions to everyday problems.

Standing, Thor led her to the back of the room through a set of doors hidden behind an elaborate tapestry hanging on the wall. She could feel Frigga walking a few steps back, her presence cool and comforting against the rising anxiety in the pit of Darcy's stomach. Telling herself to take long, calm breaths, Darcy put one foot in front of the other determinedly until Thor moved ever so slightly to the side to reveal a very familiar bed on which a very familiar body lay.

For half a second, it was like walking into the medical lab all over again and Darcy was nearly overcome with the emotion of losing him. She steeled herself, forcing her spine to straighten with surprising strength until she could look at him without the tears welling in her eyes. He looked much like she remembered him, pale, and lean, beautiful. The stillness of his body was evidence enough that his sleep was unnatural, but the flush of his skin and the expanding of his chest with each breath let her know that his heart still beat.

Sitting gingerly on the bed, Darcy looked him over thoroughly, taking in the sleep shirt and ruffled hair. It hardly seemed fair that he was trapped inside his own head, hearing the things around him while unable to respond or interact outside of their shared dreaming. She touched his hand lightly, letting him know that she was nearby soundlessly.

Looking at Thor, she asked, "How do I do this?"

Thor shrugged again, "I have not found the answer in our books. Please, do whatever you can."

Darcy sighed deeply, closing her eyes to help her focus on the task at hand rather than the two pairs of anxious, identical eyes staring expectantly at her. She pushed away the pervasive thoughts of failure and the tension knotting in her neck and shoulders. Counting the beats of her heart, Darcy tried to recall the lessons Loki had shared with her, the words rolling over her in soft waves of remembrance. Step by step, she heard him guiding her to focus, to steady, and finally to pull from whatever magical core lay nearly dormant at her center.

There was, however, no response from the body in front of her. It was as if the charge in his battery had run completely out of all Darcy could get was the echo of her own power—something she wasn't actually sure she had up until that point. Still, she pressed on, sending waves at varying angles in an effort to find a weakness in the veritable wall of nothingness that separated them.

Eventually, her neck began to ache and her hips twinged with the effort of sitting so long. With frustration bubbling in her gut, Darcy had to give up, to rest against the building pain. The dim light of the room surprised her and Darcy had to blink slowly to realize that the morning had turning lazily into late afternoon without her conscious knowledge. Across the way, Frigga sat at a large desk working through a set of letters. She paused when Darcy tried to rise, her legs having fallen asleep during the course of the day.

"What news?" Frigga asked tentatively, her face so carefully schooled into stoicism that Darcy knew her worry was great.

Shaking her head, Darcy replied, "Nothing yet. I will try again tomorrow."

Helping her to standing, Frigga walked her out to the study and into the halls, which seemed to resonate with eternal shimmering light despite the late hour and the shadows of the fading sun. Darcy, too tired to protest, allowed her body to be nearly carried the whole way back to her room, which, as it turned out, wasn't that far from Loki's resting place.

The bed was even more heavenly than before, her bones immediately easing in their discomfort at the feeling of soft layers of fluff. As consciousness slipped away, Darcy prayed for a dream.

Loki surged forth from the darkness that Darcy was knocked clear backwards onto a bed, quite possibly hers, but there was no way to really get a good look around because, a). It was incredibly dark, like most of her dreams with him, and, b.) Loki was kissing her vehemently. His mouth pressed firmly to her skin in long, slow caresses that taunted as much as they aroused. Darcy smiled into the kiss and broke for air.

"Miss me?" she teased lightly.

"Incessantly," he replied between kisses, his hands pressing her close, molding her into the shape of his body. "I felt you with me all day."

Darcy's smile grew wider, "That's because I was right next to you all freaking day, working on tapping into that massive magical core you've got going on there."

Loki's brows dropped, his hands braced on either side of his body as he leveled a sad gaze at her. "I have told you, I used all of my magic to stop Lucan. There is nothing left."  
Running her hands through the soft strands of his hair, Darcy shook her head, "We're going to fix this. You know why?"

"Why?" Loki breathed, his muscles relaxing as she pulled him into the cradle of her arms.

"Because," she asserted forcefully. "Goonies never say die."

His confused expression brought a sharp bark of laughter from her lips and she took his momentary stunned silence as an opportunity to roll him over onto his back. There wasn't a second's hesitation in her following the movement smoothly to straddle him, her long hair falling over her shoulders to brush against his sleep shirt. She leaned down to kiss him gently, fingertips touching just below his chin to keep him in place while her tongue flicked out to touch heated skin. Loki groaned softly, the vibration shuddering along the nerves of her thighs and hips. He carded his fingers through her hair, tasting her with lips, teeth, and tongue until Darcy could barely keep her balance for the sheer intensity of sensation in her body.

Even without the hoodoo voodoo going on between them where magic was concerned, Darcy found Loki's brand of seduction decidedly torturous. He would fill her with touches, kisses, and the sounds of his own approval, then pull away and change tactics. Inevitably, Darcy would be left scrambling to reset her bearings while he worked on another patch of skin or switched from teeth and tongue to the barest brush of his mouth against her skin. To say she was slowly being driven to the brink of insanity would be an egregious understatement. Half of her wanted to reach back and throw a pillow at him and the other half of her wanted to shove him back and force him to keep touching her the way she needed.

Jerking back to gain some much needed oxygen, Darcy started to tell him exactly what they were going to do when the dream began to fade. She could feel Loki working to hold onto her, his head dipping to bury itself against her neck, his lungs expanding to take in her scent and commit it to memory. Resigned, and more than a little pissed, Darcy felt him slip from her grasp into the abyss between waking and dreaming.

Eyes cracking open, Darcy flung out his limbs in a fit of pique at the interruption of the sizzling atmosphere of her dreams. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling while she worked through the knowledge that she would get to see Loki again—albeit a more comatose Loki, but Loki nonetheless. It calmed her somewhat and shot an arrow of motivation into her belly so that instead of rolling groggily from bed as was her usual habit, Darcy jumped out into the crisp morning with renewed purpose.

Frigga was waiting for her in the study, breakfast at the ready and Darcy had to tell herself three times to slow down or risk looking like some idiot who had never eaten before in front of the queen. After three helpings (she made a mental note to at least stop to eat that day), Darcy rubbed her hands against her jeans and looked at Frigga expectantly, waiting to be excused to go do what needed to be done so that the god of mischief could wreak havoc on their lives once more.

Taking her place next to him on the mattress, Darcy took a moment to examine him once more. He lay just as pale and still as the day before, his eyes not even flickering beneath the lids. Darcy pushed down the well of emotion she felt in the drastic difference between the two (or was it three now?) men she knew to be Loki. The pre-apocalypse Loki who showed her magic and trusted her enough to share the power between them, the dream Loki who provided endless sensual delights, and the comatose Loki who lay before her still as death yet still warm to the touch.

Steeling herself for another round of one-sided affinity, Darcy placed her hands on the arm that lay so amiably across his abdomen and concentrated. It took a moment for her to think of anything but forcing the waves of her power into and around Loki, but soon enough Darcy's mind drifted. She thought about her dreams, she thought about what it would mean if he actually woke up and how that might change their strange and wonderful relationship, and she thought about how much she didn't care if they went back to being just friends as long as he woke up, period.

The force of the power she was working with spread thin through the room, touching furniture, books, and knick knacks along the way. From deep within the objects, Darcy felt the smallest radiation of Loki's residual magic. Dark, deep, and fleeting, the pulses of power shifted in response to her, seeming almost hesitant to interact with her softer, airier forces. Leaning forward to brace more of her weight onto Loki, Darcy pulled at the fleeting tendrils and gathered them against her chest for safekeeping. They wriggled a little, unsettled by the close proximity of someone other than their originator, but eventually they quieted down into a somewhat complacent attitude.

More elated than she should have felt, given the situation, Darcy hugged the power to her, forming it into a ball of magic. She tucked it safely in her arms for several long minutes, relishing the feeling of something that had once been Loki's no matter how long in passing. Reluctantly, Darcy let the glob of magic roll slothfully into Loki's chest, sinking into the fabric of his clothing with a wet splash. She waited for a long minute, itching for _something_ to happen outside of the even breathing in his lungs—she waited in vain. There was no movement, not even a twitch of muscle to proclaim that his status was any different than several minutes before.

Sighing, Darcy dropped her head into arms that were braced on Loki's chest and prayed for the first time since long before college. She tapped into a faith that she hadn't known could possibly survive the onslaught of gross logicians that picked her apart in her freshman year. Darcy prayed to whoever would hear her for Loki to be alright, for the guilt in her soul to go away, and for everything to be right again. There may have been words attached to the prayer, but most of all there was the feeling of utter helplessness and the need for divine help.

She didn't know how long she lay there, working through her emotions and her calls for help while Loki lay motionless beneath her, and part of her really couldn't give a flying fuck because she _needed_ this. But, somewhere in the periphery of her perception, Darcy felt something shift beneath her. At first, she dismissed it as her mind and body playing tricks on her, but the movement came again, this time much more pronounced. Glancing up, Darcy caught the faint flicker of pale green eyes peering at her before they rolled back behind translucent lids.

Grabbing at the fabric of his clothing, Darcy shook him forcefully, hoping to see more of that beautiful, fleeting color appear before her. She called out to him, drawing attention from the study in alarmed, hopeful faces. Wincing, Darcy pulled back and slapping him hard in the face with as much force as she could manage, her hand stinging with the blow. She got absolutely zero reaction from him.

Throwing her body back to sitting, Darcy regarded him with faint disgust, "Really, Loki? This is what you're going to do?"

Nearby, Darcy felt Frigga inch closer, "What happened?"

"I got a reaction," Darcy replied glumly. "Though not much of one."

Frigga sat on the opposite side of the bed, her hands seeming to automatically rearrange her son into the comfortable position on his back, hands folded atop his belly. "It is a start." Her pale eyes focused on her with a stern expression, "You will eat, and you will rest. Tomorrow, you may try again."

Darcy opened her mouth to say that she could go on, but Frigga's features hardened a little in a way that made her snap her jaw closed with an audible click. She nodded, standing on shaky feet, her eyes dropping to Loki in order to check for any further movements. Frigga led her out, ushering her into a seat and presenting her with more fruits and cheese with bread balanced delicately on the side. Famished, Darcy dug in, filling her empty stomach and rejuvenating her strength. As she cleared her plate, the doors of the study flung open and Thor stepped through in such regal splendor that Darcy began to feel vaguely uncomfortable in her jeans and t-shirt.

He lumbered to a nearby armchair and slumped into the cushions, his head falling back to rest against the top of the chair. Frigga, unasked, plated some food for him and placed it on the side table quietly, her concern bubbling near the surface of her expression but carefully held back to allow her son time to vent in his own way.

With a deep breath, Thor leaned forward and said, "How is my brother?"

"There has been some movement," Frigga interjected smoothly. "Lady Darcy will need more time, however."

"She shall have all the time she needs," Thor responding, popping some of the bread into his mouth and chewing gratefully. "I am thankful she has come to help."

Blushing, Darcy waved away Thor's comments, "I'm only doing what anyone else would do."

The silence the filled the room was palpable, and Darcy, after a moment, wondered if she had said anything wrong. Looking between the two golden gods, Darcy searched silently for an explanation.

"No," Frigga said with a hint of sadness coating her tone. "You are doing what no one would do. Our healers…would not care for my son." Her voice cracked a little on the final word and Darcy instinctively reached out in comfort.

Thor took up where his mother could not continue, "She speaks truthfully. The healers refused to work with Loki's condition. They believe traitors do not deserve health." The pale earnestness in his eyes was enough for Darcy to stop the contradiction and indignation in her mouth. She dropped her gaze, stemming the tide of anger at the people who would cast her friend aside for actions he wasn't quite in control of, for things that could be forgiven with time.

Darcy spent more of that night roaming the gardens of the castle, the paths winding around and around in concentric circles. She walked until her feet ached, her thoughts whirling at the knowledge that maybe Loki could have been saved sooner had they been able to get over their own prejudices for his actions. As she slid into the covers, Darcy felt that sleep would elude her for some time due to the thoughts rolling in and out of her head. She pressed through several different scenarios, wondering if she could get Thor to let her lecture the healers until their eardrums bled with the outrage bubbling on a low simmer in her belly.

The darkness of her dream pervaded every sleeping thought and even though Darcy craned her neck this way and that, she could see nothing outside of a three foot radius. For quite some time, there was nothing in the deep abyss of unconscious mind, but Loki soon arrived. This time he was dressed in a familiar button down and slacks, his steps a slow saunter towards her. Darcy smiled at him, waving from the distance while he took his time in the approach.

"Darcy," he drawled, drawing her into his arms. "What a wonder you are."

Scrunching her expression in confusion, Darcy replied with a sharp, "Who me? There's no wonder here."

He chuckled lowly, his mouth pressing softly to the skin below her ear, "Liar."

"You would know," she murmured without any bite. Then, "Thor told me the healers wouldn't work on you."

The tension in his muscles was like granite, and Darcy wondered if he was angry or surprised. "Thor seems to think they owe the crown loyalty enough to deal with traitors."

Leaning away from him, Darcy cupped his jaw tightly between her hands, "You are not a traitor and you have atoned for your sins. No doctor alive down on Earth would have refused you treatment, that is the code they live by and those fuckers will bear my wrath. They will shake in whatever fucking shoes you wear on Asgard before I'm through with them."

His smile was equal parts joy and pride, "Such a bloodthirsty little mortal." The kisses he gave her sent shudders over her spine, sinking into her body like warm honey. "And so responsive."

Darcy smiled, shaking her head and kissing him once more to wipe that damnable smirk from his face. The dream, like all the others, faded all too quickly for Darcy's taste and though she tried to hold on to Loki's grasping limbs she inevitably found herself staring up at the rising light of the morning being reflected in the gems of the ceiling. Unable to keep from smiling into her pillow, Darcy rose from bed carefully and slipped into her most comfortable sundress and flats—the only non-casual clothes she had brought with her.

The routine from the previous two mornings continued with a breakfast of fruit and cheeses followed by Darcy being ushered into Loki's room to make yet another attempt. Sitting next to Loki yet again, Darcy braced herself against the mattress, her eyes looking for any sign that he had made progress in the night. She pressed her hand to his forehead, testing his temperature before scoffing to herself. Having never gone to medical school, and having absolute no knowledge of Asgardian biology, what did she think she was going to conclude from testing for a fever like a worried mother? Sitting back, Darcy thought about sticking him with pins, but that seemed a little to medieval even for her.

With resignation, Darcy settled into a familiar position, her hands placed over Loki's skin while she began to center herself into the flows of magic. They pushed through her now with much more ease than ever, her practice paying off with epic results. She reached out in sweeping motions, tapping into the latent magic in the objects that had always been close to him, gathering them once again to her body in slow, tentative passes until they bunched beneath her bearing. Again, she pushed them into Loki, the gelatinous residual power dripping into him and settling beneath his skin.

Darcy paused, one eyes cracking open to see that he still wasn't moving, before she immediately pressed forward, reaching for that power and spreading it through his limbs. Tenderly, she let it coat him, working its way into his muscles with infinite care. When every inch she could reach internally ran with the magic, Darcy sat back and waited. From within her core, she could feel the faint pulse of the magical currents. She nurtured them, sending waves of affection and good feelings his way and circulating whatever echoed back until it ran with centrifugal force between them at a break-neck pace.

For so long that she lost count of the hours, Darcy simply sat with him, one hand on his arm to keep the magic flowing. From that flow, she picked out all the nasty bits left over from his fight with Lucan, skimming through the currents until they ran clean of debris and fresh as the first time she had felt him exchange power with her. After so long bereft of the feeling, Darcy found that she was reluctant to let it go, even when her body began to protect and her stomach began to gurgle with the need for sustenance. She stayed until her eyes nearly crossed with hunger before lifting from Loki and, after one last look, stepping out into the study where Frigga had a plate already waiting for her.

Eating in relative silence, Darcy kept her mind occupied with more thoughts on how to manipulate the magic and perhaps use it to wake Loki. She contemplated pulses as opposed to river-like current, high and low intensity, focusing of different body parts in order to get a response. One idea seemed no better than the next and by the time she finished eating, Darcy had made the decision to fly by the seat of her pants in a slew of trial and error, hoping one pitch his the mark and succeeded.

Frigga eyes her speculatively from her writing desk, but didn't comment when Darcy cleaned her plate, gave her a thankful nod, and returned to Loki's side. There would be time for formalities later; Darcy had far too many ideas now to be interrupted by her own awkward interactions with others in the realm. Returning to her spot, Darcy decided to go for broke with one hell of a final attempt for the day. She leaned down, centered, and pulled at the magic still laying dormant in Loki's body until it strained for her just as much as her own power sought him out. She recreated the flow, moving with it in slow turns until it worked itself into a near frenzy of motion, burning brighter with every lap between them. Breathing deeply, Darcy steadied herself and prepared for a mighty burst of power. It came from deep within her body, from that piece of her that still carried anger and hurt and guilt, from the emotions she had worked out with Natasha, and the visceral need she had to see him well again.

The magic exploded throughout the room, nearly ripped the doors and windows clean off the hinges with the pressure and power. It circled the bed, pushing out and then inwards again to coalesce into a tight ball the size of a marble sitting atop Loki's body just above his heart. It balanced there for several long seconds before dropping down like so much water into a pool. The power rippled delicately throughout the room, settling into pristine nothingness.

From behind her, Darcy could hear Frigga's alarmed voice, her strong grip pulling her from her slumped position over Loki's chest. Hands tapped at her face to bring her to attention and Darcy murmured groggily that she was okay, she just needed a minute. One minute turned into several, but she eventually returned to some semblance of coherence.

Frigga's gaze moved from Darcy to her son with astonishing rapidity, her mouth dropping open as she tried to speak. Darcy whipped around, stumbling over her limbs to get a look at her handiwork, her grip on the bedclothes so tight that she heard a few threads rip. Eyes wide, Darcy licked her lips, her mind failing to comprehend that Loki was looking back at her with those stunning, intriguing eyes, one hand flopping out towards her.

Scrambling over him, Darcy cupped Loki's face in her hands, barely able to believe that it had finally worked. "Welcome back, Loki."


	9. Chapter 9

**Well, it looks like the muse has granted y'all a mid-week update. Please enjoy responsibly.**

**For those of you that asked, there are 11 chapters to this story, with a potential for an epilogue, but I'm still editing so I'm not certain yet.  
**

There was no miraculous recovery for Asgard's resident god of mischief despite his caregiver's best intentions. It took three days of prodding for Darcy to get him to stand, and two more days for him to eat solid food again. In between sessions of arguing with the surprisingly whiny demi-god (she let it pass because, hey, coma), Darcy spent time talking with him about their time apart and exchanging small bits of magic to help keep his strength up. Lounging with him on one of the large sofas and watching the sun veer across the sky soon became her favorite pastime.

"I have a question," she said during a lazy afternoon. "How did Lucan survive becoming a crispy critter?"

Loki, who had been sitting idly on the floor between her extended legs, turned to look Darcy in the eye. "I have a theory."

"Do tell," Darcy murmured, shifting over so that he could sit next to her on the cushions.

"The magic Lucan was using dipped far into darkness, where true necromancy works to destroy the soul and replace it with rotting flesh. I once said that Lucan's magic was great—indeed, it far exceeded my expectations. What happened in the tunnels was enough to sear away some of the evil, leaving his rotten heart exposed."

Nodding, Darcy tugged a little on the hem of her shirt, still confused. "Why did it take all of your magic, then, if he was already weak?"

Loki ran a long digit down her arm, threading his fingers through hers absently, "To defeat someone who has nothing left to lose, one must be willing to give everything."

"Bullshit," Darcy shot back acerbically, "You had a whole team of people to support you—who _should_ have supported you. Loki, you were the only one who took lasting damage after that fight."

His shrug was non-committal in a way that infuriated her so much that, had she looked in a mirror, there might be actual smoke coming out of her ears. Shoving him downward, Darcy pressed Loki back against the couch, her face a mask of anger and determination.

"Will you stop being so damn passive?" She bit out. "You're a goddamn hero, act like your sacrifice was worth something."

His smile was wide and indulgent, hands rising to hold her in a loose embrace, "Such a little tigress."

"I mean it, Loki," Darcy replied, giving him a gentle shake.

"I know you do," he murmured, touching his forehead to hers. "And I thank you for your belief in me."

She shook her head, "It's not just my belief anymore, Earth has you to thank for saving the planet… don't roll your eyes, it's true."

"Be that as it may," Loki said, smirking, "It would be in bad taste to revel in the spoils of a victory long gone."

Tilting her head to the side, Darcy bit her lip, her voice dropping suggestively, "Oh, I don't know. I seem to remember a time when you promised a certain retribution."

Loki's expression darkened as his smile dropped from his lips and heat pooled in his eyes. With more gentleness than she thought possible, he pulled her down for a kiss that started as a firm press of his mouth to hers. Adjusting his grip, Loki urged her closer as his tongue slipped out to touch against her lower lip. The faint parting of her lips was enough of an invitation that the kiss slipped deeper, so urgent that their teeth clicked together a few times as they tried to get closer to one another. Darcy groaned, rubbing sensuously against him in every way she had wanted to since their first meeting. He smiled into the kiss, hands working beneath her shirt to run up the length of her spine.

It occurred to her between kisses that this was their first intimate contact on the physical plane and it was happening without the familiar tingle of power arcing between them. Darcy reveled in Loki's kisses, wanted to explore every inch of his skin and mouth, but she knew that this tangible intimacy could be compounded exponentially to create a rush of something _more_ between them. Tentatively, she reached out to touch their affined bond, brushing against it carefully so she didn't overwhelm him. Too much, too fast, made him dizzy and Darcy had to work at building the power slowly in a cruel twist of fate. She cultivated it, nourished it, until a low hum of magic passed in a completed circuit that fueled her insistent passion.

Loki mouthed a path along the line of her jaw and neck, tongue shoving against her skin in long, rough strokes over her sensitized skin. He palmed her hips, holding her in place when she wanted to squirm (to get closer, to pull away, she didn't know). Unlike Darcy, there was no rush to his actions, though the need was apparent in his eyes and the faint lines of strain around them. Loki took his time with her, savoring every taste on his tongue until she shook with the need for urgency, for ferocity and fervor. Having never been one to wait, to postpone her gratification, this tiny morsel offered to her when she knew there was far, far more in store was pure torture.

Gripping the arm of the couch by his head, Darcy pushed down and back against his hips, stopping short when she felt something less than expected.

Glancing down, she stammered, "Are you not, um, enjoying this?"

The blush that fanned out over his cheeks was oddly endearing despite the uncertain circumstances. "The spirit is willing, but the body is still healing," he explained softly, hands rubbing in soothing circles.

"Oh," Darcy replied, lifting up to sitting astride his thighs, "I didn't know, I'm sorry."

Loki shrugged, his core tightening as he followed her movement so that he could look her in the eyes. "Why do you apologize for something you can't control?"

She shook her head, feeling some strange sense of déjà vu, "It's not fair to you for me to tempt you when you're not feeling well." She said it as simply as she could, and it was probably a pretty lame way of expressing the fact that she didn't want to be a humongous tease.

"Oh, you tiny, precious mortal," he murmured, running his hands through her hair. "Your very existence tempts me."

Darcy tried and failed to keep the smug grin from stretching wide across her lips, "Well, aren't you just one huge ego boost."

Tucking her into his embrace, Loki wrapped both arms around her torso in silent, comfortable affection. Darcy settled in happily, humming her appreciation when Loki passed a short, weak burst of magic to her in gratitude. She collected it near her heart, allowing it to warm her from within. There would be time for more heart pounding touches and kisses, she would (not so patiently) wait for him to recover—it gave her time to think about what part of him she wanted to explore first.

Thor came by in the evening, as had become his routine, to share dinner and to update himself on Loki's care. Frigga's visits were more sparse, but no less filled with love and concern for her younger son. The one important person in Loki's life that Darcy had not yet laid eyes on was Odin, not even a message sent through one of the maids or Thor. She thought it was strange that Loki's father would remain absent while his son lay near death, and some part of her wondered if Loki had not yet been forgiven by Odin for his warring between the realms. Her degree had given her first rate insight into the rise and fall of nations, the delicate balance of ruling and politics. It was possible that the problems stemming from Loki's psychotic break hadn't yet been solved and were still wreaking havoc on the nation.

When they tired of relaxing near the open windows, passing magic back in forth in lazy circles, Darcy walked with Loki back to his room. Safely hidden away from the world they lay entwined in the darkness, always touching in one way or another whether it was through their hands, their cheeks, or their bodies. After so long without him, after waking up to empty rooms and beds when there was so much promise in dreams, she still felt an underlying anxiety when she woke in the mornings. Somehow, it always felt as if he would slip away at any moment, without any warning, and there would be nothing she could do about it.

Every morning her fears turned out to be unfounded as Loki would roll over and pull her to mold against him across the sheets, whispering good morning and nuzzling the back of her neck. His strength returned bit by bit, Darcy playing the task master and helping him to walk in large circles around the room, more every day. When the room became too easy to lap, she moved their activity to the warmth and the fresh air of the gardens as a refreshing change of pace. His gait, though often slow, evened to that fluid grace and elegance that she recognized as normal for Loki and he tired less easily with each new effort. She often sat with him when he needed to rest underneath low hanging boughs of the trees while he pointed out the local wildlife, some so dangerously cute that she threatened to take them home with her.

Lying out on the grass well after the sun fell beneath the horizon, Loki played with her hair absently, his mind quite obviously elsewhere. She let him go wherever he needed to; knowing that thinking about the world around him and the realms just beyond their reach was how he solved the problems they now encountered on a daily basis. It was a first for her, this lack of need to fill the space with empty words and phrases. The silence didn't scare her so much anymore, not when Loki was there to soothe that anxiety with faint pulses of magic and lingering caresses. They communicated on more levels than verbal, in ways that were subtle, intriguing, and growing steadily more complex over time.

Loki stood suddenly, startling Darcy a little though she was beginning to reacquaint herself with his natural agility. Offering her his hands, Loki pulled her to standing, smiling very softly at Darcy's entreating expression. Together, they walked the long path back to Loki's rooms, their pace relaxed and dawdling. He didn't twist his hands in silent magical invitation to turn on the lights when they finally made it inside, the door pushing closed solidly behind her. Darcy moved through the room easily, the placement of furniture rising up in a faint visualization behind her eyes. Sitting gingerly on the bed, she turned to find Loki staring at her in the most peculiar way.

"Not like you can see anything in this darkness, but do I have something on my face?" She asked, half joking.

Loki's head tilted on the axis, his brows rising. "I can see you just fine, and no, your face is perfect."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Darcy retorted, satisfied and preening. His answering chuckle flitted over her skin, pushing goose bumps to the surface along her arms. In a flash of movement that belied his steadily improving state of health, Loki appeared before her, kneeling at her feet. One hand lifted to tap pointedly at her cross legs and she shifted to lay one against the other in acquiescence to his unspoken request. She smiled when his hands wrapped around her ankles, laughing lightly when they slid up her calves in a touch so light it tickled. He cupped the backs of her knees, thumbs pressing on the little band of muscle that bent towards her inner thighs.

Holding the position, Loki's bowed head rose in a deliberate motion as his eyes lifted to gaze at her face. She was stunned to see an almost earnest desperation pushing forth behind his normally placid countenance, his brows pulling together in deep thoughtful expression. Tension rose in his body, pulling tight even as the muscles in his neck relaxed so that his head lowered gently to her lap. Eyes closed, Loki rested his forehead on her thighs, his hands rising to circle her hips. Darcy ran her hands through his hair, the fine strands slipping through her fingers with ease. She let him continue to think, let him soak in her body in his own way in silence.

"I think I love you," he croaked into the seam of her jeans, the words almost lost as an indecipherable muffle.

Jaw dropping, Darcy wondered if she'd hear him right as she stared down at him in shock, her hand stilling in his hair. "What?"

Chin rising, Loki looked her in the eyes, "I love you." His voice was so low, half hoarse, and sincere. Darcy felt her heart give a tiny palpitation in her chest, the muscle stuttering before picking up its normal pace again.

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Darcy said, "You don't know how happy I am to hear you say that."

The ensuing kiss was fierce, scorching, and Darcy had to brace her hands against the bed just to keep her balance. Having none of that, Loki shoved her up the length of the bed in hasty motions that wrecked the bedclothes, pulling them from their place around the mattress. It seemed he was everywhere, his hands and mouth and body bearing down on all sides until nothing existed for her except Loki. Darcy, overwhelmed as usual, fought to keep up with him and ended out flailing as her body tried to right itself. She compensated for the inability to budge by kissing and biting and feeling as much of him that was available despite the fact that he was pinning her to the bed with savage intensity.

There was no hesitation in the way his hands skimmed her skin, slipping beneath layers of clothing to pass in heated strokes. Darcy gasped into his mouth as he dragged the padding of her bra downwards, his palm cupping the fullness of her breast. She twisted to arch against him, dragging blunt nails over his skin in silent encouragement. Pushing away the fabric of her shirt, he took one nipple in his mouth, pressing it against the hot roof with his tongue. She groaned even as he pulled back to give equal attention to other side, his hands pulling her shirt up over her head to toss it over the side of the bed hastily.

Loki took the opportunity to gaze at her, fingers following the path of his eyes in steady adoration. "Such skin," he murmured, "Such lovely, perfect, _tasty_ skin." And he took indefinite time indulging that taste in every way possible. He licked, sucked, and rolled vast bits of her body against his lips and cheeks, driving sensation after sensation through her body until she trembled beneath him.

By the time Darcy remembered that she, too, could give as well as she got, Loki had removed her jeans and was running his fingertips over the lace waistband of her underwear urgently. She shook herself physically to keep her mind on the task of removing Loki's shirt. Three buttons in, he stopped her gently, smiling into a soft kiss.

"Not tonight," was his answer to her confused expression.

Further bewildered, Darcy tilted her head to the side, her eyes looking pointedly at her own nakedness and then to his clothed body.

The low laugh as he slid his hand beneath the fabric of her one remaining article of clothing was just as powerful as any magical exchange. He hooked two fingers into the elastic and slid them from her hips, thighs, and legs with one sweep, his eyes already absorbing the exposed skin greedily. Darcy had to focus on her breathing to prevent spontaneous combustion when, in the simplest movement, he parted her knees and ran the pad of his thumb down the folds of skin at their juncture, top to bottom. Kissing a path up her torso, he continued to rub maddening circles with not nearly enough pressure until Darcy considered reaching down to grab his wrist and rotate her hips _just enough_ to force her to the peak.

The idea shot right out of her now-addled brain as the low hum of magic sparked down low and spread in wide bends until it filled her body to brimming. Startled and gasping, Darcy reached out physically and magically, ramping up the circuit until the flows of magic billowed out around them in a prismatic smokescreen. Had she been able to open her eyes against the pleasure, Darcy wouldn't have been able to see over the edge of the bed, wouldn't have been able to make out anything in the mist except Loki's smiling, satisfied face.

"Say it," Loki bit out between kisses.

"What?"

Loki growled, increasing the magic and the force of his touches. "Say it," he urged, his voice cracking a little over the syllables.

Darcy's head snapped back with the feelings blurring through her semi-coherent mind, finding her voice on a short inhalation of breath. She knew what he needed now, knew how to give him what he wanted. "I love you." She was not-so-surprised to find that she meant that declaration, possibly more than any other time she'd uttered it.

Gorging herself on touch and power, Darcy barely felt his fingers slide inside—that is, until they curved forward with sharp pressure. The angle pushed his palm against that eager, pulsing part of her, until she clenched around his fingers.

Loki ran his hands over her in a sweat-slick glide of pressure that still seemed like too much stimulation with the sporadic bursts of magic still moving between them. He swept the hair from her face and kissed her lightly as he pulled the sheets up over her. Darcy relaxed into the pillows with a sigh, her eyes finally able to focus on the form looming smugly above her.

"What about you?" She asked softly, knowing that her stamina would only barely be up to the task.

Loki shook his head, "Later. Rest, Darcy-love."

Passing out from sheer exhaustion in bed naked with Loki was definitely number one on Darcy's list of favorite things to do. In fact, activities with him were fast taking up the top ten or fifteen on said list, which was a-okay with her. She took a deep breath, noting the scent of magic hanging heavy in the air around them, the power fading into faint swirls as it ebbed away. Loki gathered her close, murmuring words in a language she didn't understand though his meaning was clear. He loved her, wanted her, maybe even needed her. If she had the ability to move, Darcy might have crowed with joy at the revelation. As it was, she settled for a smile and snuggle, knowing she could definitely celebrate in the morning.

Waking abruptly, Darcy reached blindly through the covers for Loki, a frown marring her features when her hands came up with no solid body. Lifting her head, Darcy glanced around the room, anxiously finding it empty without a sign of him. She threw back the covers, yanking the sheet along with her as she padded through the room to the door. With every step, her anxiety grew, harsh splashes of morbid thought ruining her morning adulation. The sheet swirled around her feet and she had to pull on it to keep from tripping as she wound her way through the study, intent on running through the halls in search.

The door pushed open and Darcy skidded to a stop as Loki angled through the opening carrying a covered tray. His wide eyes took in her disheveled appearance and agitated face with quick, masterful calculations that took all of half a second before he was setting down the tray and approaching her with his palms held up.

"Darcy, what is wrong?" Loki asked softly.

Darcy bounced from foot to foot, feeling relieved and embarrassed at her fierce reaction to his absence in their bed. "I thought you were gone."

Loki's face fell in understanding, his mouth quirking in half-hearted amusement. Stepping forward, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her temple. "I had thought you would sleep until much later so I went to bring you breakfast."

On cue, her stomach perked up, forcing her eyes to the covered tray while her mouth watered at the thought of food. She would kill for some bacon, and, _god_, did a breakfast burrito sound good at that moment. Still, a breakfast of fruit and cheeses was better than no food at all and Darcy was never really one to complain about free food.

They settled into bed with the tray and ate until Darcy begged off for fear of her stomach bursting open in its fullness. Afterward, Loki kissed her palm and pressed it to his cheek tenderly.

"You should get dressed," he said into her skin.

Darcy chuckled, "I thought the point was for me to remain _undressed_."

His smile was pointedly naughty, "If I had it my way, you would never wear clothes again. But, the Queen requests our presence as soon as we are presentable."

"And what if we are never presentable?" Darcy murmured suggestively, rolling to lean over him, her fingers tracing little circles over the skin left exposed by the part in the fabric of his shirt.

Loki pulled her close, hoisting her over his body as his hands slipped down the length of her spine in blatant invitation. He touched his tongue to the skin behind her ear, running his teeth over the dampened flesh. Darcy shivered, her breath coming out in short puffs of air.

Groaning, he pulled away, "It has been made very clear that if we have not arrived at an adequate time, she will come looking for us."

Huffing, Darcy threw her body back against the covers, "Bummer."

"Major bummer," he replied with such seriousness that Darcy barked out a laugh in response.

Dressing was an interesting affair as Loki kept running his hands over the bare skin, pulling at her clothes so that he could reach for more. Twice, Darcy asked if it was absolutely necessary that they go see his mother immediately. Each time, Loki took a moment to run his gaze over her form in a heated caress and then seemed to shake himself back to sense with a laugh and a swat to her backside.

The walk through the halls was strange with the staff scurrying around not making eye contact, their blonde heads ducking. She wasn't sure if it was out of respect or fear, and part of her really didn't care having never truly forgiven the Asgardian healers for their callous treatment of their prince. Something in her spine forced her to straighten as she considered how close he had come to death by their dismissal of his worthiness. It was possible that they could have saved him so much sooner, that she would have never had to intervene had they simply gotten over their prejudices. Still, some part of her felt this kind of pride at having brought him back in that it was entirely possible that it had cemented their already intense relationship into something infinitely more.

Darcy pulled her hair over her shoulder as they entered the receiving hall, her eyes widening at the vaulted ceilings and arches, the jewel encrusted architecture that screamed luxury. She almost couldn't bring herself to sit on one of the plush chairs next to Loki. Gingerly, she allowed her weight to settle into the cushion, her hands folded in a fidgeting mass on her lap. She tapped her feet as they waited, bouncing to a silent rhythm in increasingly apparent stress until Loki's pale hand reached over and gripped her knee firmly. It circled gently in reassurance before coming to rest at the bend, his attention turning to the entrance.

The Queen was dressed in her usual golden attire, her pale blonde hair piled high on her head in an intricate mass of curls. Amidst them was a sparkling crown that was near hidden in the colors of her hair, the stones flickering in the light. Darcy crossed and uncrossed her knees, wishing she had paid more attention to the Princess Diaries while babysitting her cousins. At least then she would know how to sit properly, courtesy of Julie Andrews and a musical montage.

Frigga sat demurely across from them and the quick intelligence behind her eyes reminded her fiercely of Loki. She connected patterns and made decisions in the blink of an eye, her facial expression carefully schooled to reflect absolutely nothing of her conclusions. She merely offered them a greenish colored tea with honey, her courtesy impeccable.

"I am happy to see you well, my son," Frigga said.

Loki tensed a little, his fingers tightening over her knee as he replied, "I am happy to be well."

Darcy smiled, "He'll be good as new any day now."

Frigga's brows rose in curiosity, "Such an interesting choice of words, Lady Darcy."

"_Mother,_" Loki retorted involuntarily, his expression all at once agitated and embarrassed.

"What, my son? Can I not carry on a conversation with the woman who has saved your life? Who has brought happiness back to this house?"

Loki, suitably admonished, dropped his eyes off to the side, two fingers running along his jaw and lips in mild frustration. Darcy watched the exchange with quirked brows, her mind racing to catch up with the seemingly harmless jabs at one another. Frigga, of course, remained perfectly poised while Loki melted into a physical representation of the sullen child—it was simply amazing what a mother's love and prodding could do to a perfectly independent god. She loved it!

Frigga inquired about Darcy's comfort and to her state of health, skimming over her magical stamina with the barest of notations. And then she asked if Darcy was planning on staying in Asgard on a more permanent basis. Had she been sipping the strangely sweet tea, Darcy would have spewed it all over the decadent area rug at her feet in shock. From beside her, she could feel Loki's intent gaze on her as they waited, hawk like, for her answer. She stammered a little, saying that she probably did need to go back home sometime.

Seeming to take the answer in stride, Frigga simply nodded, "Well, Thor tells me that the bifrost is a very reliable form of transportation between realms once more. I hope you will visit often."

Darcy's stomach turned a little at the inevitable return trip (and possible further trips) with their nausea induced vomiting. She hoped there would be some getting used to that, or Asgard would get a second hand look at McDonald's French fries once more. The conversation turned to current events with recent marriages and a few newborns in the royal court. Loki made little to no comment, nodding distractedly and occasionally narrowing his gaze at her carefully veiled gossip. Darcy made an effort to keep up but as the names got more and more ridiculous, she found she needed to tune the conversation out risk giggling inappropriately.

"Loki tells me that your magic has improved tremendously," Frigga asserted.

Owl-eyed, Darcy replied, "Practice, I guess."

"Yes," Frigga murmured, "Loki practiced for hours as a boy. I had the most difficult time getting him to eat properly, something he still struggles with if his lean frame is any indication."

"I eat," Loki shot back in defense.

"Not nearly enough," his mother countered, pouring each of them more tea. "With your recent trauma, you should be eating twice as much."

"I'm fine."

Frigga smirked, "Allow a mother her worry."

Darcy laughed a little at Loki's scoff, having received the same talk once or twice before during his absence and replying with much the same reaction. It was totally more fun being on the outside of things, watching them play out before her. Their conversation was cut short by the entrance of Thor, his smiling face glowing with welcome. Without so much as a preamble, he hauled Loki up out of the chair and hugged him tightly, his large arms encircling the leaner man easily. Loki looked none too pleased about being manhandled, but said nothing as he returned to his perch on the plush chair.

"Lady Darcy," Thor called out, embracing her in much the same manner as his brother, "How fair you?"

"I'm great," Darcy replied, "Had an awesome night's sleep." Half her reply was shot pointedly across the way to Loki, whose lips lifted secretively.

"I am glad to hear it," Thor said, sitting near Frigga. "I have much news to give to our allies in Midgard, and as my brother is recovering, I thought you may want to return home."

The suddenness of it was a shock to Darcy's system, she blinked several times to restart her brain so that she could give a coherent reply. "I, um, when were you thinking of leaving?"

"Tomorrow, if possible."

"Oh."

"I think, perhaps, tomorrow is too soon," Frigga interrupted. "Loki has only just returned to health. Surely, a week will be sufficient, to assure us of the success of his treatment."

Darcy wanted to hug the woman, wanted to simply reach over and squeeze those deceptively tiny bones in her arms. There was no way she could leave the next day, not with… _things _being as they were. A week might be enough time to come up with some kind of game plan, some kind of conclusion about her relationship with Loki. As it was, she simply gave Frigga a grateful smile and a sympathetic nod to Loki, who already seemed to be thinking ten steps ahead.

Thor spoke with Frigga about needing a few documents located, books and the like, while Loki's attention remained in the future. Darcy kept her eyes on her twisting hands, fairly humming with the need to get out of the room and speak with Loki. In the span a few seconds, the realization that this was only a temporary arrangement hit home. If she were honest with herself, Darcy had known this would come eventually. She had a life, a home, on Earth that she simply couldn't abandon no matter how tempting the opportunity to stay might be.

After an interminable amount of time, they were allowed to leave, the Queen having another engagement that required her attention. Darcy walked as calmly as she could to the door, Loki's hand at her back. As soon as the door closed, however, she was already turning to speak. Placing a hand on her mouth, Loki shushed her gently, his eyes flicking to the staff milling around. He walked her briskly back to his study, making sure the door was firmly shut behind them.

"So, a week," Darcy said while she folded her arms around her torso, hugging herself to ward off the impending uncertainty.

Loki stepped away from the door, his keen eyes taking in her anxiety, "Will you go?"

"I have to," Darcy replied firmly. "My whole life is on earth."

He nodded absently, his eyes moving away to stare thoughtfully into the distance. Darcy stood still while he moved around her in a slow circle though her eyes followed his every step. She turned with him on her heel, biting her lip in anticipation of his reaction.

"There is nothing I can say to change your mind?" He asked lowly.

She shook her head in the negative.

"And nothing I can do?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Then," Loki said with finality, "I suppose you'll need some practice."

"Say what?" Darcy said, her face contorting in confusion.

"Practice," Loki asserted, "You must understand that I will not let you go." Heavy booted feet brought him within an inch of her form, his cool hands slipping over her jaw to force her gaze to remain on his face. Almost immediately, Darcy felt the tell tale swirls of power slide into her skin, moving deeply to seep into her bones. She sighed into the magic even as her body slumped towards him, bracing against his more steady frame.

"There is nothing but the affinity," Loki whispered near her ear as the flows built in intensity. "Nothing but this will exist for me any longer."

Darcy smiled into the fabric of his shirt, working to regain her equilibrium and to return the magic he pressed into her with equal force. It seemed that his fervent declaration the previous evening still rang true, that he did have deep feelings for her. Darcy chastised herself for doubting him even for the barest second as the emotion rolling within his heart was very clearly written across every swath of magic that arced between them.

Loki pulled away, grabbing her hand as he moved, "We should begin immediately, we haven't much time."

Darcy followed along in outright amusement, her smile firmly plastered over her lips while he sat her down and pulled a few books from the shelves. For several minutes, he flipped through them, lining them up as he found whatever it was that he was looking for. There was a certain kind of voyeurism in being just outside of his bubble, her eyes flicking over his body while he bent over the tomes. She leaned on one arm, relaxing into the chair while he began to prepare himself for their 'practice'. Some part of Darcy hoped it would be like before, with wild demonstrations of power—with the added benefit of knowing she could kiss him whenever she damn well pleased.

Speaking of kisses… she desperately wanted to continue their session from the previous night, or at the very least return the favor. Yet, she knew that Loki had entered into his zone and any attempt at copping a feel would only end in frustration. Darcy surprised herself with how okay she was with waiting to satisfy her urges, having been a play now, work later, kind of girl her whole life. Was that part of growing up? Or was that just Loki? She didn't actually know, and the more she thought about it, the more Darcy realized just how much had changed since he came sauntering into her life at the top of Tony's tower.

Granted, a lot of those changes had begun as soon as Jane hit Thor with her car and thus put them in the center of inter-realm warfare. Darcy had been just finishing college and still hadn't had a clue as to who she was or what she wanted. She meandered slowly through life, taking the job that was offered and pretty much letting other people guide her. It wasn't until Coulson had brought her out of cubicle world and Loki had shot powerful magic through her system that Darcy started taking control and responsibility for her life. And then she had the whole end of the world thing to worry about—she supposed that would force her to mature much more quickly.

Darcy was so lost in her memories that it took Loki shaking her gently to pull her back to attention and to the situation at hand. Loki smirked down at her before leaning down to take her hand and help her to standing.

"We'll begin with small distances, shall we?" A squeeze to her fingers and he was stepping away, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he went. Darcy tilted her head to the side and watched the very slight sway of his ass, nodding her head in approval. She definitely, definitely approved.

His sharp turn in the heels of his feet shot her eyes back to his face and she was fairly relieved to note that he was far too focused on their work to notice her ogling him from a distance. For a minute, maybe two, he looked at her with narrowed eyes. Darcy returned the gaze as long as she could, but eventually had to hide behind the fall of her hair as a blush rose to her cheeks. She shifted her weight, about to suggest they maybe try a smaller distance, when a tingle itched at her skin. Her hands moved to brush it away, stopping dead in the air as the tingle moved around to center on her chest.

Breath stilling, Darcy dropped her hands to the side and tentatively touched that tingle with her mind, grinning when it blossomed in familiar patterns.

"Whoa," she called out as it faded. "Do that again."

**So, there is a sequel to Pawn Takes King rolling around in my head and I wanted to see if those of you who had read that fic would be interested in reading a continuation. However, this will be a Hawkeye-focused continuation, not Darcy/Loki. Let me know what you think, because Clint is sauntering around in my head, handing out pick up lines like candy. **

**Much love!  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**And we're off!**

As would be expected, Loki worked very hard on achieving his goal once he had a course charted in his mind. Darcy had to flop in an ungainly way across the stone floors to get him to call the session to an end once it started. Much like before, learning a new way to work the magic was physically and mentally draining in a way that left Darcy laying there for near a half an hour. Loki sat nearby, pressing random kisses to little bits of skin when the mood struck him as he read through yet another book in order to further his research. Without a distraction and without her mind whirring with sensations brought on by Loki's ever-present quest for knowledge, Darcy was able to get a good look at the room around her. Wall to wall bookshelves rose high towards the ceiling, stuffed nearly full with all kinds of interesting books and scrolls. A very sturdy looking desk stood nearby, stacks of more books set haphazardly around the perimeter. There were lounges and chairs dotting the rest of the space, side tables nearby for more ubiquitous tomes.

What struck her the most was the softness of everything in the room in that the fabrics, the cushions, even the freaking drapes all looked like a body could sink into them and revel in comfort. No part of the room consisted of a rough edge or sharp corner, as if every detail had been eroded by a strong flow of water. Darcy wondered if Loki's consistent habit of using magic in his day to day life had anything to do with it. Though the power had never felt rough to her, there was always a physical aspect to it, a definite _feeling_ of the magic as it flowing in and through her body.

When Darcy felt like she could sit up without falling right back over, she pushed up to her elbows and observed her partner in magical exploration. He was sitting in a rather boyish pose, cross-legged on a nearby rug, his head dropped elegantly into his open palm. She could just see the dark green of his eyes as they flicked across the page in a rapid fire pace while his mind worked to absorb the information. It occurred to her that this was something he probably did often as a way to pass the time, which totally made sense. Loki was an academic, if she ever saw one and his mind (from what she had felt and seen) was as acute as Jane or Dr. Banner. Nothing was too obscure for him to devour and nothing seemed to escape his notice. It was an aspect of his personality that she absolutely adored.

Soon enough, Darcy wouldn't be able to do this as often due to the vomit-inducing nature of inter-realm travel and their respective jobs (although she really wasn't sure what his royal duties happened to be). She had never had a long distance relationship—but, then again, nothing about this particular relationship had been what she would term normal for Darcy Lewis. Darcy was a woman who remained firmly in control of guiding the romances she'd had in the past and Loki seemed to pull all of that control from her with a single heated glance. It was nearly impossible to keep calm and collected when all of these new experiences were being thrown at her over and over on the daily. She couldn't even keep her hands to herself like a normal person, constantly reaching for him even in sleep.

It wasn't like it was her fault, exactly, because he was _seriously_ gorgeous and his mind coupled with their affinity only added to the appeal of the man. Who could blame a girl for being unable to control her raging hormones? She was only human, after all. Darcy took Loki in a little while longer, memorizing the way his mouth puckered as he read and the slide of his hands over the pages. Then, she reached out and tapped his arm.

"How about some food?" She asked, pushing to standing.

Loki looked between her and the text several times with an uncertain expression until Darcy rolled her eyes and took the book from him.

"It will still be here when you get back. Food, and then you can get back to," she looked at the cover, "Magic and Mayhem." Brow rising, she chuckled, "Really?"

Loki shrugged as he, too rose to his full height. "The author speaks on long-distance magic preparation."

Shaking her head, Darcy set the book aside and pulled Loki along to the door. "Lead the way, magic man, I'm starving."

Loki's knowledge of the inner workings of the castle was a humongous testament to adolescent years exploring with his brother and, likely, hiding from his parents. There were tiny little alley ways and doors camouflaged in the stone that dotted the estate, providing the pair with the rare opportunity of traveling unseen and unmolested towards the kitchens. Edging into the balmy room, Loki guided her to a chair and began to pull random bits of food from cupboards and ice chests. Darcy leaned forward hungrily as he used a bit of magic to light a fire on which he set a deep saucepan. It seemed that, for the first time since coming to Asgard, she would receive a hot meal that included some kind of animal protein.

Pulling a knife from a block, Loki began to skin, chop, and dice several strange looking vegetables into little color-coded piles. He then poured some kind of herb filled oil into the pan and set to work on the meat. Sliced into thin strips, the fibers stretch a little as he ran the knife through them, pulling fat from the edges as he went. Salivating, Darcy waited eagerly as the meat was dropped into the pan, the smell wafting through the room and inciting her already hungry stomach. He seared it, turning the slices over until cooked on both sides before adding the vegetables and a sort of broth for moisture.

When the mix was assimilated and the juices were sizzling in the pan, Loki plated them both a portion and sat opposite her at the island that cut the room in half. Darcy dug in without a thought, forking a bit into her mouth and chewing for several seconds before the taste actually hit her tongue. As her taste buds caught up with the rest of her body, she closed her eyes in pleasure.

"This is really good," Darcy very nearly purred. It could have been the lack of morning bacon, or it could have been the sweet and fragrant herbs in the oil, but the food in front of her hit the spot on her hunger with startling efficiency. She only managed to keep from shoveling the whole plate into her mouth by telling herself that she had to savor something like this—that, and she didn't have a napkin and shoveling definitely required some clean up afterwards.

Loki hummed in agreement, "My childhood punishments often consisted of washing dishes for the cook. I paid attention to her meal preparation whenever I could."

"If my opinion counts for anything, this is a total win," she murmured, stabbing a bit of something orange _something_ and popping it onto her tongue.

He laughed, "Of course you opinion counts. Besides, the things that come out of your mouth are infinitely amusing."

"I'm so glad I entertain you," Darcy retorted dryly. "My life is now complete."

Loki's brow rose, "As it should be, lovely mortal, when a god holds you close."

She rolled her eyes, "Ego much?"

"I can tell you that my ego is well deserved."

"And," she scoffed, "I can tell you that if your head gets any bigger, you won't be able to walk through a door, let alone the slim paths to get back to our room. I'll have to spend the night all by my lonesome." Darcy had a lot of experience playing coy and batting her lashes at boys to bring about a whole range of emotions from lust to jealousy. There was a familiarity in playing the role of the flirt that helped her to access her feelings for Loki on a deeper level. She wanted him to want her, above all others, and she wanted validation of his want in any form she could get it. Loki, as usual didn't disappoint, leaning over the island between them to pressed a herb laced kiss to her mouth, his tongue touching her lower lip even as he pulled away.

Smiling into the final bites of her meal, Darcy allowed herself to really feel the happiness bubbling inside her and to send out that happiness in the form of positive thoughts and wishes out into the universe. She pushed away the knowledge that they only had a week of this kind of intimacy left, choosing instead to believe that the memories would be more special now that there was a time constraint. It was a vacation from reality that she desperately needed, but vacations couldn't last forever—nor were they meant to, as normalcy had no place in escapism.

As in his childhood, Loki cleaned the dishes with meticulous attention while Darcy wondered over how he could perform such a domestic activity while still maintaining his masculinity. He was wearing a freaking apron, for Christ's sake, and yet he still looked as if he were working a photo shoot rather than scraping seared herbs from a saucepan. It was a paradox, if she had ever seen one, and Darcy was inevitably fascinated by the image displayed before her. Here was this powerful magician and Trickster and he was washing dishes by hand, scrutinizing them before setting them aside to air dry.

After finishing his work, Loki dried his hands and leaned against the counter, his eyes taking her form in with a steady gaze. Darcy tried not to blush, jutting her chin out to hold his stare in petulant challenge. As always, Loki found her courage amusing and sauntered over, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her to his side where he nuzzled her skin affectionately. Taking her hand, he led her back through the winding halls to the study where he dropped onto one of the couches.

Following his downward motion, Darcy stretched out atop him and snuggled close in an effort to soak up the comfort of his embrace. They lay like that for a long time all the while watching the sun dip low and finally disappear over what little of the horizon was visible through the open windows of the study. She was so very comfortable, so very content in a way that hadn't seemed possible before what with the whole world barging in to provide overwhelming daily stimulation. Her whole life had slowed to long days spent in Loki's company walking the paths of the gardens and now practicing their magic once more. And, though there was hesitation about returning to her home, Darcy knew life would never quite be the same. She would never be at ease in the city with its abundant distractions and constant need for attention.

As some point in the night, Darcy woke to Loki carrying her through the doors of the bedroom and setting her upon the sheets. He shushed her when she stirred, pulling the covers to her chin and slipping his fingers through hers. Again, she drifted off into sleep with hardly a second thought, her contentment rising above all other things.

The sun on Asgard didn't seem to produce the kind of heat that Earth's sun did, even though it shone three or four times as bright. Darcy squinted into the rising light, the reflection off the golden architecture only serving to exacerbate ire being awake so early. Leaning up her elbow, Darcy performed her morning ritual of scanning the room for Loki, finding him sprawled half covered next to her. She smirked at the wayward tufts of hair, knowing he would smooth them instinctively as he drifted towards consciousness. It was nice to see him so unguarded, so vulnerable, after being exposed to his terminal defenses for most of their relationship.

Slipping from the bed, Darcy stepped as lightly as her feet could take her to the large glass doors that opened to the private balcony. The sun hadn't risen very high and the air outside was crisp with the previous night's dew. Hugging herself, Darcy observed the skyline, the buildings shooting high in alien formations all over the panoramic view. The crevices between buildings were filled with rivers of water that dropped off of sudden ledges to cascade into the depths where gravity seemed to bend into nothingness. In the light of the morning, the whole of Asgard was shining with shifting light that made the whole realm seem so damned _alive_.

The padding of bare feet against stone floors signaled that Loki had noticed she was gone from their bed prematurely. He swept in behind her, his hands bracing on the rail before her, in effect caging her in. Darcy turned in his arms, pressing her fingertips to the skin of his chest, warming them against the cool morning.

"We need to invest in some curtains," Darcy asserted with a smile. "The sun almost blinded me this morning."

Loki shook his head in amusement, "Perhaps around the bed as I would not like to share you with all of Asgard. But, on a point of culture, to shield oneself with curtains intimates that one has something to hide. The crown cannot afford that luxury."

Darcy wasn't one to argue about cultural differences. "Then I accept your compromise," she replied, sighing into his skin.

Loki pulled her away from the rail, his hands urging her from their place on her hips. "Come back to bed." Darcy went willingly, a girlish giggle sounding from her throat as Loki peppered kisses over her face and neck. They fell in a tangled heap of awkward limbs that wrapped around one another until Darcy wasn't quite sure that they were separate people any longer. Loki's mouth followed along familiar and pleasing pathways, pulling moans from her with startling efficiency. He shifted her body so that he could reach the bits of skin he wanted, moving clothing to the side without preamble.

Darcy managed to slip his shirt from his torso while she was still relatively coherent, running her hands over the freshly revealed skin. The color and texture of it was familiar, smooth and pale, with a spattering of fine hair marking the center. She pressed her forehead to the bend of muscle near his shoulder, running the damp skin of her mouth down over the hills and valleys of his chest, her fingertips teasing his sides. Below her, Loki was breathing deeply and his hands, for once, remained still in a concession for her exploration. It was a concession that Darcy took full advantage of while she could as Loki's patience, she knew, would wear thin quickly.

Just as his body began to tighten in anticipation for her next action, a knock sounded firmly at their door. Surprised, Darcy turned her head so quickly at the sound that her neck cracked audibly. Groaning, Darcy rubbed at the blooming ache and waved off Loki's concern so that she could slip to the door, find out who had interrupted, and possibly kill them for ruining a moment she had been wanting for over a year. The door swung open to reveal a stiffly posed man who was dressed in the uniform of the staff. His glance was carefully neutral as he bowed in greeting.

"The Allfather wishes to see Prince Loki in the throne room," he announced a little too loudly, as if Loki wasn't sitting half naked not ten feet behind her. "Immediately," he amended before turning on his heel and strutting from the door. Darcy watched him go, her lips pursed to keep from shouting something obscene at his back. Then, she spun around and flicked the door shut, feeling inordinately satisfied at the 'click' of the latch settling into place. Loki observed her from the bed with a smirk and a light shake of his regal head.

"You're being summoned," Darcy said somewhat disappointed.

"So it would seem," Loki replied with a sigh as he stood.

Sliding onto the bed, Darcy rolled to her stomach and watch as Loki dressed for the day, "This happen often?"

"Not at all." He shrugged into a tunic and the leather coat he favored before leaning down to kiss her. "I will return as soon as I can."

Darcy shrugged, "No rush, I'm sure I'll find some kind of trouble to get into."

His chuckle somehow remained in the room for several minutes following his departure, sounding off in Darcy's ears as she relaxed into the bed. She drifted off for a few more hours, only waking when her hands tingled beneath her torso. Shaking them out, Darcy pushed her hair from her face and stepped into a pair of jeans. Pulling a t-shirt over her head as she went, Darcy ran a brush through her hair and pulled it into a high ponytail. Shoes on her feet, she moved through the study to the halls, craning her neck each way to see into the rising morning.

Having walked this part of the estate with Loki nearly every day, Darcy had some familiarity with the length of hall in either direction. Heading out, she skimmed the wall with her fingertips, her pace slow and steady. The architecture of the place was a tribute to the movement and flow of air as almost every room or path had an open angle or large set of windows. The tapestries, rather than light and gauzy (as she had expected) were heavy enough that a stray burst of wind barely fluttered the fabric. She sauntered along down the length of the hall and turned off towards the entrances to the gardens. The hall became a pseudo-balcony overlooking a large and perfectly manicured courtyard. From her perch Darcy could observe several of the residents as they went about their daily activities.

Couples strolled along the stone walkways, some talking animatedly, some simply enjoying the scenery. There were groups of women enjoying their breakfast at tables set near one of the corners, the fabric of their gowns enviable. Darcy wondered if long, flowing dresses were required for those living in the royal mansion. It seemed everyone who wasn't staff was dressed to the nines at all times and Darcy was exhausted just looking at them, thinking of all the work that had to go into just one outfit for breakfast. She shoved away from the balcony and descended down a set of stairs, veering off into a quieter section of the gardens.

The high hedges offered a bit of seclusion and darkened the path into shadows so that Darcy wasn't squinting against the sunlight. She moved around until she found a familiar bench folded into the embrace of a towering tree. Easing her weight on it, Darcy relaxed against the tree trunk and rested her head against the bark, her eyes slipping upwards towards the sky. As much as she really loved Asgard with its slower pace and its magnificent sights, Darcy missed home. She missed going to her mother's for dinner and movies and freaking hamburgers with French fries drenched in ketchup. She missed eating lunch at her desk with Coulson looking on disapprovingly. She missed her apartment with its thin walls and the crying children down the hall. Darcy simply missed Earth, with all of those things that entailed.

Sitting beneath the tree, Darcy thought about how life was going on back home, whether or not Coulson had gotten his paperwork done without his secretary. He was efficient enough to take on the myriad of forms that needed filling out at the end of each mission, but she liked to think that he couldn't wait until she got back so that he could pass off those tedious hours of work onto her. And, Darcy wouldn't mind doing it, loving the feeling of being helpful and needed by those she considered important.

Soon, the hedges wouldn't keep back the noonday sun and the air around her heated with the rising light. Darcy stood and stretched her arms high above her head, rocking left and right to work out the kinks in her neck and back. Then, she stepped out of the gardens and up the stairs before heading back to the room. She spent a little time perusing the bookcases, pulling out random volumes and trying to read the strange characters lined up along the pages. Squinting at the print, Darcy decided it was worse than Spanish class—at least then she'd had the entertainment of a woman wearing such garish makeup and costume jewelry that every day seemed like an opportunity to guess which prints would be mismatched. Setting the books aside, Darcy took a turn around the room, touching random objects set on the shelves.

One such object caught her attention, a small orb made of etched glass. Delicately, she held it aloft to the light, turning the orb with a small rotation of her wrist so that she could see the designs. Tiny dots connected by thinly carved lines sprawled across the surface of the glass in what looked a little like the constellations Jane was always staring at. But, these shapes looked entirely unfamiliar to her eyes, seeming more arced and graceful than Earth's box-like representations of figures in the night sky.

Darcy set the orb down carefully on its stand and moved on, not wanting to break the thing in her curiosity. She glanced at a few of the portraits hanging on the walls, mostly landscapes that didn't seem to be of any significance. The room was Loki's, as was the bedroom beyond, she knew this to be true. Yet, no individual object in the room gave away anything about the resident. In fact, Darcy had to stand back against the wall and gaze at the space in its entirety to even glean the tiniest bit of information. All of the interesting bits of the room were well hidden and it took time to pick through them, but Loki was very good at concealing the things he felt were dear to his heart, fearing the appearance of weakness. She shook her head, Darcy knew him well enough without investigating in this way, but part of her felt like he had this whole other life of which she hadn't even scratched the surface. Loki was many-faceted and mercurial at times, moody and depressed one minute and then sharp and smirking the next.

Again, Darcy shook herself physically to rid her mind of these contemplative thoughts that did nothing to serve her. She shouldn't be so unsure when he had proven to her time and again that there were feelings that ran deep between them. Darcy had never been unsure before, had never walked so cautiously in a relationship, and her apprehension was unnerving. She had met his mother, got on well with his brother, and had pretty much saved his life—everything was going great. Maybe that was the problem, things were going so great—Darcy had never had a relationship that didn't contain at least one or two blow out fights or random acts of jealousy and spite. The Disney-story-come-to-life aspects of her life, complete with a fairy castle were seriously turning her love life on its head.

Flopping down on one of the lounges, Darcy rubbed anxiously at her face. _Get it together, Lewis._ She told herself to buck up and to have some of that Lewis family bravado. When the other foot dropped, as it inevitably would, she would be ready to face whatever it was head on. Pep talk complete, Darcy forced her mouth to smile and pulled a Peter Pan until the happy thoughts replaced the irksome ones and the stress worked its way out of her body. She didn't know how long it took, but by the time she had worked her way towards Christmas, Loki returned with a subdued entrance.

"Hey," she called. "How'd it go?"

Loki pulled his jacket from his shoulders and draped it over the back of a nearby chair before settling in beside her. "As well as most meetings go."

Curious, Darcy edged, "What did he want?"

"To congratulate me, I suppose," Loki replied, leaning his head back against the couch. "On my… recovery."

Sitting up fully, Darcy put a hand on his arm, "That's a good thing, right?"

He shrugged, lifting an arm to wrap around her shoulders and pull her close. "I can never be sure what his plans are or where I fit in them."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Exactly as I said," he asserted with a little bite in his tone. "The Allfather is always planning something."

Darcy laughed lowly, "So are you."

"Yes, but I am very open about my plans, darling."

"Uh huh, you keep telling yourself that," she retorted with a smile. "You're as shifty as they come, Loki."

"Sometimes," he sighed into her hair. "Sometimes."

They went about their normal routine until the evening hours were upon them and they found themselves sitting out on the balcony. From somewhere below, Darcy began to hear music floating upwards—strings of some sort. The melody started out softly, slowly, until more and more instruments entered the song and the music swelled into something truly fantastic. She closed her eyes at the sounds, once again homesick for her ipod and stereo as she realized that this was the first music she had heard since she arrived in this parallel realm.

After the strains of the melody played a few times over, Darcy started humming along, tapping her fingers along the arm of the chair. Her gaze far away and her focus remaining on the notes, she failed to notice her companion's eyes shift from the scenery before them to her face and body. It wasn't until he pushed to standing that she noticed that amused expression building in his countenance.

"What are you doing?" She asked as he pulled her up and to him, stepping out a little towards the open space behind their chairs.

"Experimenting," Loki replied with a hint of suggestion in his tone. Darcy kept a suspicious eye on him as he arranged her body against him in an all too familiar stance.

Scoffing, she said, "I hope you don't like your toes, because I'll probably step on them."

"I think I can manage… now, something slow." Their dance was indeed very slow, just a simply sway of bodies to the beat of the music, a little turn now and then to keep things interesting. Darcy relaxed into his embrace, noting her 'spaghetti arms' and not really caring. Soon enough, however, Loki began to throw in a few more complex moves, always returning to that slow swing so that Darcy could recapture her balance. Once or twice she stepped out of turn and he barely managed to dodge her wayward feet, though she clipped him a few times. All in all, she was pretty damn proud of herself for picking up the rhythm of something more complicated than the middle school sway. They danced for several songs, most them alternating between sweet and sultry with smooth, easy transitions. Loki kept her close, only allowing her to step out and away for a moment before pulling her back in with such assuredness that she was fairly sure he had, had lessons of some kind. And, Darcy simply enjoyed the movement, the pace, and the heat of him while she could. Not many of her boyfriends danced, and still fewer would dance to a string instrumental. The newness of it all was as comforting as it was surprising for her.

The music faded to a mere whisper before disappearing completely so that their movements slowed to stillness and they were left standing, wrapped up in one another so completely that Tony could have strolled by in drag and she wouldn't have noticed. Darcy laid her head on his shoulder and listened absently to his heartbeat and breaths. Through her contented stillness, Loki became less and less immobile, his hands running idly over her skin beneath hemlines and seams to the bends of her spine and neck. Darcy shivered with the increase in sensation, lifting her head to touch her mouth to the skin behind his ear, dampening it with a swirl of her tongue. She smiled into the motion when his hands tightened around her waist and a bit of power sparked uncalled from his fingertips.

Rolling with it, Darcy sent back her own brand of magic in the form of short staccato kisses along his jaw line until she reached his lips. As hard as she tried to hurry the kiss along, to deepen it, Loki managed to remain a step ahead, keeping the interaction light and teasing. Darcy let out a sound of frustration, resorting to a hard nip in order to get her point across that teasing was not what she needed right now. What Darcy needed was hard and fast and _fucking deep_ because Loki had been too close for too long, just near enough to taste but not to have fully. That, she decided, would stop tonight, if she had to tie him down just to get him to sit still enough for her to employ long unused seduction skills.

Loki stepped backwards into the room and Darcy mimicked his steps to maintain and close the distance between them. She thumbed open the buttons down the front of his shirt and proudly tossed it aside before ducking down to work eagerly on his pants. As seemed to be his habit, Loki was able to distract her long enough to roll her onto the bed and remove her clothing. His precise ability to get her undressed in mere seconds never ceased to amaze her and, thus, she was left momentarily vulnerable as comprehension of this unique talent dawned on her—a vulnerability of which Loki took full and complete advantage.

He caged her body in with his arms, his head dipping down to mouth along the center division of her torso. Darcy, having caught up to current events, pulled at his hair in an attempt to guide him to where she knew it would feel best even though she was slowly coming to understand the Loki always did things the way he wanted and he would get there when he so chose-thank-you-very-much. She arched beneath him, reveling in as much sensation as she could despite her prone position. Though she was certainly enjoying herself, Darcy was well aware of the undisputable fact that she needed more, and soon, if the anxious beat of her heart was any indication. In an attempt to speed things along, Darcy pulled from him a small burst of power, rolling it between them in what surely felt like a physical caress down the length of Loki's body.

Shuddering above her, Loki paused and she could practically feel him working hard to collect himself and to keep this torturous pace. Darcy was having none of that and she pulled yet again, now confident enough in her magic-wielding that she could call it forth at will without the nasty repercussions of headaches and fatigue. Over and over, she manipulated the power, feeling her own arousal grow in tandem with the current. Frozen in place above her, Loki could not conceal the shivers racking his body or the pounding of his pulse as it reverberated over her flushed, dewy skin. He swallowed visibly before lifting a scorching gaze to her.

"Darcy," he began, his voice rough, "You don't know what you're doing."

Very nearly rolling her eyes, Darcy simply shrugged, "Maybe not, but it looks like it's working, so score one for me."

The laugh that bubbled up from his throat shouldn't have sent heat through her nerves like it did and it certainly shouldn't have made her skin tighten in anticipation to the point of near pain. Yet, there were such promises to be had in Loki's darkened eyes, such pleasures in the roll of his tongue along his lower lip, that Darcy couldn't help but to breathe hard in response. Crawling up the length of her body, he pulled her legs over his thighs and slipped his hands beneath her hips. Arching over her, Loki's eyes closed briefly before a sudden and intense shot of magic shot forth into her skin, racing over her senses with hot electric pulses.

Gasping, Darcy's eyes rolled back as she reached out blindly for purchase against the feelings coursing through her body and mind. It breached every defense she had, breaking down pieces of her that Darcy hadn't known existed. And then it restored every destroyed inch, replacing whatever discomfort had occurred with unending ripples of exquisite pleasure. Tossing her head back and forth, Darcy tried to gain control over her rebelling limbs only succeeding in kicking the bed sheets to the side and tangling her long hair.

Loki relented fleetingly, his mind already occupied by the idea of tonguing the skin beneath her chin. He inhaled deeply, fingers gripping a little too tight in his need and, for a moment, she thought he might burst with the penned in energy boiling beneath his calm exterior. Darcy, thinking quickly, scooted her body downward and slipped her hands between them to unfasten his pants. Her feet and legs joined in the mission, pushing the fabric down over his ass and thighs. She counted it as a major victory when she was finally able to take him in her hands and elicit a new and intriguing sound from him. Starting so low that she almost missed it, the groan built in his chest and rolled through his body.

Gripping her wrist, Loki pulled his hips back out of her reach and settled hotly between her knees. She held her breath as he glanced up at her to determine her readiness and when she nodded, he pressed forward and inward in a smooth unceasing motion. That breath held so sharply in her lungs hissed out from behind her teeth as he filled her. To stem the flow of curses and adulations pouring from her mouth, Darcy bit down on the available skin of his arm. She wanted to howl, wanted moan and writhe and growl at him, but something told her to hold still, to wait until he sat fully inside her to give in.

Patience, Darcy knew, was never one of her strong suits, but somehow she managed to hold her place for a moment longer than expected before her hips were reaching up and twisting to create such delicious friction that sounds which couldn't be exactly classified as human were wrung from Loki. He pushed forward recklessly, kissing her so hard that Darcy could feel her lips bruising with the force. Pinning her wrists to the mattress, Loki used the leverage to slide deeper and to change the angle to suit his liking.

Whimpering, Darcy called out to him and begged (though she would deny it later) for a release she desperately needed. She felt it rising at the base of her spine, shaking her to awareness and sizzling into her body until every muscle in her body clenched. Curling upwards as much as possible, Darcy groaned low, her chest rising in quick successions of breath. From above her, there was a string of words in a language she didn't understand flowing out of Loki as he, too, fell over the edge. Movements slowing, Loki nearly collapsed above her, angling off to the side at the last minute so that he wouldn't crush her with his weight.

It took about five minutes for Darcy to regain the ability to speak, her parched throat working to form the words bursting animatedly from her buzzing brain. "Mind equals blown."

Face buried in a pillow, Loki's chuckle was muffled but she rejoiced in the shaking of his shoulders that signaled his amusement. She stretched luxuriously, wincing when a muscle pulled a little too firmly for her liking. Glancing at the offending limb, Darcy's brows came together a little as she caught sight of a pair of bruises that looked suspiciously like hickies dotting her chest. There were more along her stomach and one or two on her left wrist (had he even kissed her there?) It looked like she was going to be wearing a long sleeved sweater for the foreseeable future because that was one conversation she really didn't want to have with any member of Loki's family.

Darcy rolled over and draped an arm around Loki, who had obviously passed out cold. She snuggled into him, not minding that their blankets were thrown to the floor, feeling sleep begin to overtake her. Sometime before she lost consciousness, Darcy decided that this was the best vacation she had ever taken, despite the circumstances that led her to Asgard in the first place.

**There's only one more chapter of this one, so we're winding down to the end. I'm going to wrap up the loose ends and let the story close as naturally as I can. **

**FYI for those who responded that they would like to see the sequel to PTK... there is a first chapter written and being edited. I'm working on some continuity issues and hopefully should have something ready for public consumption in the next two or three weeks.  
**


	11. Chapter 11

**Here it is, the final chapter. I would like to thank everyone who read and reviewed. It really helped keep me going when the idea of zombies and Darcy Lewis seemed a bit too out there for the audience. Thank you, again, for your support.**

Standing at the bifrost site, Darcy steeled her body against the inevitable nausea that would come with her trip back home. Loki stood nearby, having decided to return the favor of her visit with a stay of his own on Earth. To be honest, she was grateful that he was coming with her, not only because it meant more time but it also meant that their inevitable separation would be delayed for just a little while longer. Darcy inhaled until her lungs felt like they were going to explode all over the rainbow bright terrain in front of her, and then the world spun upside down and inside out as she was thrown back to her home world.

Throwing up in one world, Darcy discovered, was much the same as throwing up in another. In other words, it sucked very, very hard. To her credit, Darcy managed to stay upright throughout the dry heaving as the device powered down. Hands braced on her knees, she swallowed back her saliva and tentatively returned to standing, her hands lifting to maintain her balance. From her vantage point in the center of the room, she could see Jane waving excitedly from one of the stations and Coulson standing nearby observing their entrance with shrewd eyes. Darcy stepped down and shoved her hands into her pockets as she worked hard to conceal her proud grin.

"Looks like the mission was successful," Coulson said mildly, though she could see some of the strain had left his expression.

"Sure was, Phil," Darcy quipped. "Do I get a raise."

Coulson's brow lifted, "No." Then, "Debriefing room, if you don't mind. You'll need to be updated."

"I've been gone, like, a few weeks, what world threatening event could have unfolded in that time?" Darcy asked as she was ushered out into a side hallway and through several sets of doors. The pace was fast, urgent, and she had to skip several times to keep up. Within half a minute she was breathing hard despite the fact that she'd picked up a hell of a lot of cardio in the last few days while discovered that Loki's desk was, indeed, very sturdy.

"Actually," Coulson replied as they walked, "You've been gone for eight months."

"Eight months!" Darcy bellowed, drawing attention from every agent down the long length of the hallways. She then turned to Loki, who was following along with her duffel, "Eight months?"

Loki simply shrugged, "Time means nothing between realms."

She knew that, had been told that same fact by Thor not two weeks (her time) past, yet knowing it and experiencing it were two completely separate things that may have just melted her brain.

"Holy shit," Darcy breathed. "Well, Agent bossman, I guess we have a lot of catching up to do."

Coulson opened a door and intimated that she should step inside, "That we do, Ms. Lewis."

Darcy sat anxiously next to Loki while she waited for Coulson to arrange his files in that meticulous manner that had her wanting to reach out and throw the papers to the floor in a fit of childish pique. She valued her life, however, and managed to refrain. Twisting her hands, Darcy did her best to be patient, but patience was just so much _work_ and she was jetlagged from her inter-dimensional travel as it was.

Having settled himself, Coulson gave her a look that Darcy sincerely hoped not to see so soon after returning home. It was a look that said, 'I'm going to totally ruin your day and there is nothing you can do to stop it.' She sighed, in resignation, leaning a little on the arm of her chair while she waited for the inevitable day ruining announcement.

"Following the events leading up to your departure it was made known to Shield that the _infection_ had made its way into the general population and mutated."

Darcy's eyelids dropped a little over disbelieving eyes, "We're dealing with mutants now?"

"Essentially," Coulson replied and Darcy waited very patiently for a punch line that never came. Coulson really wasn't the joking type, however, and his expression never even shifted as the seconds ticked by.

"Can I have a re-do?" Darcy asked, "Because this is really starting to get ridiculous."

Shrugging, Coulson simply said, "This is not out of the norm for our agency."

"You guys are sneaks," she burst out, throwing her hands into her hair, "Sneaky, sneaky, sneak-sneaks."

"We are the government, Darcy, this is what we do."

"Tell me about it," she shot back, glaring. "Alright, now that I'm updated, what do you want me to do?"

Coulson blinked, "Go back to your regular duties. Shield would, however, like to ask Loki to continue participate as part of the team." Could his face get any more serene while talking about mutating zombies?

"Abso-fucking-lutely not!" Darcy barked, suddenly angry. "He almost died last time and that was just zombies. Now we're talking mutants and shit apparently just got real."

"Darcy," Loki interjected lowly, one hand reaching out to skim the back of her wrist, "There is no harm in hearing the man's offer."

Turning slowly in her chair, Darcy leveled a gaze at Loki that would have melted steel, "Are you serious? You're seriously going to head back into the fight after I had to travel _worlds_ to save your comatose ass?"

Loki's eyes softened, but his mouth remained pressed in that firm line that told Darcy that he would fight whether she approved or not. The realization only served to stoke the fires of her anger and redirect them at the person she'd risked life and limb to bring back from the abyss. Perhaps 'life and limb' was a little bit of an exaggeration, but the point stood as it was and she was going to stick the fuck to it. Hissing, she lifted from the chair and stomped from the room, more than a little surprised at how Coulson just let her leave. The stomping continued petulantly until she reached the elevator and stabbed the button for her floor viciously.

As the carriage moved, Darcy crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot in irritation, filling with nervous energy. She was incredulous at the turn of events, as if reality had come by and swatted her in the face. There was such a huge disconnect between the contentment of Asgard and the chaos of earth that she was momentarily stunned amidst her anger. Movement swished by the corner of her eye and pulled a squeak from her as Loki materialized nearby.

"_God_, can you not _do that_?" She shrieked, throwing her tiny fists down by her sides with some force.

Loki held his hands in front of him, palms up, in surrender, "I apologize." Then, "I cannot leave this realm to fend for itself, not when I have brought this plague upon it." It sounded like it should make sense, but all Darcy could see was the potential danger. Still further, the formality of his words and tone was enough for Darcy to consider using violence to beat some sense into him. How could he consider putting himself back into the line of fire after barely surviving the last time? After barely surviving the coma? After she almost couldn't save him?

"You can't do this to me," She breathed through a quickly running nose. "You can't put me through this again."

Loki moved very carefully to hold her as tears formed in her eyes, falling down over her cheeks and to the floor below. He shushed her, rocking this way and that, when the doors of the elevator opened to a hallway filled with agents. Sensing her increasing distress, Loki pulsed a bit of magic around them and suddenly they were standing in her apartment down the street. Once again surrounded by the security familiar things, Darcy felt her emotions well up inside her, overflowing her defenses until she was sobbing openly into Loki's shirt. He maneuvered them into her bedroom, easing their bodies down onto the bed so that she could curl up against him while her tears dried.

"You can't do this," she repeated with a sniff when she had calmed enough to speak once more.

Loki ran his hands soothingly over her back, "I promise you I will take the upmost caution. It is more likely I will not see a fight at all—the agency will need someone to find a cure."

Head shooting up, Darcy climbed astride his body, holding him by the long locks of his hair so that he would know how serious she was when she said, "If you die, I will find a way to bring you back and kick your ass. Understand?"

He chuckled, "Understood, fair mistress."

"I'm being serious, Loki, I'm not going to go through another year thinking you're dying."

Drawing her down to him, Loki kissed her forehead, "As I said. Understood."

"Good. I don't want to have this conversation again." And that, it seemed, was that. They would move forward as long as Loki told her what was happening and wouldn't lock her away like the last time. Darcy would have input, she would be active, and he would damn well listen if she said things were going too far. It wasn't her preferred agreement, but she could make a compromise—wasn't that what relationships were all about?

Though she slept a little more fitfully than on Asgard, Darcy woke the next day comforted by the warmth of Loki's body at her back. She slid from her rickety bed and went through her morning ablutions, flicking off the light on her way back. They had an hour or so before the building would become active and she wanted to use it productively. Snuggling once more beneath the blankets, Darcy ran her hand over the curve of Loki's spine. He had rolled to his stomach in her absence, one hand sliding under the pillow to support his head. She smiled at the contented look on his face, the expression so different from when he'd been injured. In this form of sleep, he looked radiantly youthful and serene, his lashes pressed lightly over the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

In the silence, Darcy was able to contemplate the intensity of her feelings for Loki and how those feelings were going to affect her life from then on. She would have to learn how to navigate the distance, and their combined duties, but what about the danger that seemed suddenly magnetized to them? Loki was determined to set things right and to continue the path of atonement set long before their relationship became, well, an actual relationship. And Darcy really loved working for Coulson despite the tedious amounts of paperwork and the tendency of other staff to look at her like she was insane during meetings.

Feeling some of her old self come back to her after existing for so long under duress, Darcy simply decided to roll with the punches and let the chips fall where they may. She would deal with whatever consequences arrived, if and when they showed up, by simply being the ever-awesome Darcy Lewis. It had always worked before and she had no doubts that this particular plan would continue to work even if the situation had veered a little more towards the cosmic.

Decision made, Darcy leaned over Loki's body, biting gently into the skin at the nape of his neck and soothing the sting with her tongue. She slipped her hands beneath his shirt and massaged the muscles along his spine to ease him into consciousness. From below her, Loki groaned a little and shifted to his side. He pulled her down for a sleepy kiss, something Darcy was all too willing to give.

Sex with him had always had an edge of urgency, as if Loki were afraid that she would be tugged away too soon. Some part of Darcy guessed that he hadn't been granted many pleasures that didn't have an expiration date or hadn't come with a condition. He still looked up at her from his back with this sense of wonder that sent Darcy on a power trip of epic proportions. She loved how every roll of her hips would be met with a squeeze of his hands or an encouraging sound of approval. Teasing him was very much one of her favorite activities, drawing out the pleasure until he rolled her over and held her still for his thrusts. As exhilarated as she was during their lovemaking, Darcy held the time after very dear to her heart.

Sweat-soaked and panting, Loki would kiss her skin everywhere he could manage, sending residual bits of magic that assured her of his affection. Darcy would return the feeling as best she could while coming down from her high before catnapping to return her strength. Inevitably, Darcy's stomach would send them out of hiding to gather nourishment and she was grateful that someone (possibly Coulson) had stocked her kitchen, otherwise they would be ordering out for Chinese.

Soon enough, Darcy was called back to work and it was so incredibly strange how things simply dropped back into routine over the course of the morning. Coulson, late to the office, handed her a coffee on his way in.

"It's good to see you back," he said as he powered up his computer.

Darcy smiled, "I'm prepared for a mountain of paperwork you've shoved to the side while I was gone." The only reply she got was a smirk and a glance at the towering 'in' box to the left of her computer. Point made, Darcy set to work, managing to spin through most of the morning without much thought. It was late afternoon when Coulson forced her from the computer screen, escorting her to the elevator.

"I can assure you that Shield will take every precaution to ensure your safety as well as the safety of Loki—of all our team—during the search for a cure," Coulson said absently, texting something on his phone.  
Darcy glanced up at him in annoyance, "You can't predict every move, and have you _seen_ mutants?"

"Yes," he replied. "We need answers, Darcy. And we need a cure, both of which Loki could provide much faster than any of our scientists."

"I know that," Darcy spit out, "Don't you think I know that? The whole world is depending on one guy to save it, and don't even get me started on the absurdity of it being the same guy who tried to conquer it not too long ago."  
"Absurdity noted," Coulson said dryly. "That doesn't change the fact that Shield scientists have been testing on the hundred and seventy eight infected with little to no luck."

Darcy arched a brow, "So it's been contained."  
Coulson nodded, holding his hands folded loosely in front of him. "Unlike the previous strain, these infected subjects are not dying in mere hours. They have been living in sickness for weeks." His eyes shifted away from her face, the lines around his mouth tightening a little with the strain of keeping his expression carefully neutral.

Swallowing, she asked, "How bad is it?"

"Bad enough that Shield is relying on a demi-god with a rap sheet twelve pages long."

"Oh," was all she could say, all her mind could come up with when faced with her own selfishness. "Well, I feel like an asshole."

A chuckle sounded from beside her, "You're not an asshole, just trying to protect someone you love. We've all been there."

Not waiting for a reply, Coulson led her out into a remodeled medical lab that she thought may have been constructed solely for the epidemic. Long rows of beds lines each wall, each filled with a single person in restraints. Darcy recognized the tell tale signs of the infection—the change in skin color and the deteriorating skin—but most of the patients seemed only barely affected. Some looked fully conscious, others half dead depending on how progressive the disease had become. Staff moved busily between each bed, taking notes on sterilized clipboards and checking IVs. Darcy mostly tried to stay out of the way even though they had already returned to their normal routine of studiously ignoring her.

Coulson walked her along towards through the room to an airlock where he thumbed the keypad, opening the door. Darcy slipped inside, bouncing on her toes while Coulson activated the airlock and ushered her into the secured area. The room was spacious, but the low ceiling shrunk the comfortable area down to something stifling. Unconsciously ducking her head, Darcy caught sight of Loki staring intently at a medical chart. He was scanning pages of notes, flicking through them in an almost absent manner that indicated he was looking for something specific. She almost hated to interrupt him, knowing how focused he could be and not wanting to interrupt any miraculous conclusions he might be making. The room behind them was filled with some intensely sick people and Darcy felt a little pang of guilt at how vehement she had been in her argument for not helping them. They couldn't help that they had been infected. Hell, she was damned lucky _she_ hadn't been infected in the tunnels below the city on her first attempt to stop the crisis. If Loki could help, if he could do so without risking his life too overtly, she would support him as best she could given that she would more than likely be cheering from the sidelines.

Coulson waited to be acknowledged (for which Loki allowed a mere glance before returning to his work), then said, "Any progress?"

"Some," Loki replied curtly, "Though I would appreciate some peace to work."

"My apologies, but I am required to provide updates daily." Coulson's voice lacked sincerity and Darcy thought she saw a sense of smug humor in his normally placid countenance.

"You are updated," Loki nearly sneered, and Darcy wondered at the animosity between them. Loki could be a little shit sometimes, snarky and rude to the point of childish peevishness, but the venom in his words was something entirely different than the tone with which she had become familiar. And, she had never seen even an ounce if distaste fall from Coulson's mouth, let alone drip from his very words. It was a strange and fascinating thing to watch, especially when Darcy had first-hand knowledge of the varying sides of each person involved.

Coulson nodded, pulling his phone from the pocket of his jacket and tapping it to one of the screens hanging from the ceiling. The information began to upload almost immediately, scrolling down the tiny interface with stunning efficiency. Darcy made a mental note to see if she could get one of those, _hello instant downloading_. Her ipod would be grateful for the break in the vast amount of data and new playlists after having sat dormant in her desk for so long.

"Can I help?" She asked hopefully. "I'm pretty good with data input, 'cause, you know, Jane was terrible at spreadsheets. I think there is a little too much brain and not enough organization in her genetic makeup."

Loki lowered the clipboard and data sheet, his eyes falling to her face and the first bit of ire faded from his expression. "I don't want to take you from your normal duties." The sentence was said more to Coulson than to Darcy, a slight tinge of challenge slipping back his throat. Darcy sighed loudly, cocking a hip as she waited for the posturing to come to an end.

Coulson, of course, did not rise outwardly to the bait and simply replied, "This assignment is top priority, I had hoped Darcy would speed things along. You may borrow her as you see fit, as long as she returns to her assigned duties when we have a cure."

Rolling his eyes, Loki turned from them and set the clipboard down, gesturing idly to a nearby computer atop a fragile looking desk. "Darcy, you may begin with the data over there. When you're done, I'll give you the results of Dr. Banner's tests to transcribe."

Recognizing the obsessive tenacity of a scientist on a mission, Darcy sent Coulson a long suffering glance and set to work. It didn't take long for her to fall back into her old habit of stepping around a professional in their own world, only this time she had to keep her mind on task while it constantly wanted to veer off into fantasies of distracting Loki from his work. There was something so incredibly attractive about how precise he was when manipulating his experiments, how he handled what had to be delicate measurements and equipment. It made her think of how his brows would furrow when she tugged at his shirt, pulling him to the bed; made her think of the way his tongue rolled over the hollow in her throat, the press of his skin.

Giving herself a mental 'down girl', Darcy centered her mind and forced her eyes back to the computer screen and the lists of controls created specifically for the city including water, gas, and area. She tapped in formulas and sent the data to a folder so that Loki could sort it at will, knowing that any sort of organizational system she put in place would inevitably be obliterated and rearranged to suit Loki's needs, whatever they may turn out to be. When she finished with one assignment, he was already standing there with another, both of them working well past dinner into the night. Finally, when Darcy's stomach threatened to cannibalize itself in rebellion, she stood from the computer, powered it down, and turned determinedly towards the still working Loki.

She called his name several times, failing to break through the walls of concentration, which called for drastic measures in her book. Glancing at the airlock door, Darcy flicked her hair behind her back and stepped over to stand on the opposite side of a waist high counter on which Loki was taking notes from a journal of some kind. Unbuttoning the top three buttons on her blouse, Darcy adjusted her bra to display her considerable assets to their finest and pressed her palms to the table, leaning down so that her elbows rested near the edge.

"Honey," she called, tentatively lacing her call with a bit of magic, just to make sure he was paying attention. Loki glanced up very quickly, eyes falling downward to her preferred target with stunning ease that made her think getting him out of the lab would be a piece of cake. "The work will be here tomorrow, but I won't be if I die of starvation. Whadya say we get some food and take this party back to my place?"

He was torn between one desire and the next, his sense of honor and his sex drive warring within that glorious mind. She would have to sweeten the pot a bit, perhaps. Sauntering around the side of the table, Darcy stepped up to Loki and pushed him gently onto a rolling chair before slipping her knees on either side of his hips and settling herself on his lap. She kissed him hard, using her fingers to massage the tension at the back of his neck, soothing and exciting all at the same time.

"Food first, then sex, and then to bed—that is what we're doing until tomorrow morning where we will pick up where we left off here. There are interns to manage the experiments overnight, it's what they're there for, trust me."

There was a kind of stunned appreciation floating into his expression that had Darcy feeling proud, but her stomach was still protesting in hunger. It would need to be assuaged soon or it would begin sending signals to her brain to initiate anger until she was properly fed. She wanted pizza, like, _yesterday_ and she was willing to go to any measures to get it, even literally dragging the god of mischief through a heavily staffed medical lab.

Slipping his arm beneath her ass, Loki lifted Darcy onto the counter, running his hands up her sides to cup her breasts. "I think I would greatly enjoy simply taking you now," he murmured, pulling lightly at the material of her bra.

"You could," Darcy replied cheekily, "But I'll have more energy if I'm well-fed. And, an energetic Darcy is a kinky Darcy."

The first smile of the day cracked across his face, his expression lighting up with amusement and desire. "Well, by all means, let's get you fed."

As they made their way back through the open medical lab, Darcy couldn't help but to watch the faces of the infected while they walked by. Some were staring out into oblivion, obviously drugged out of their minds; others offered protestations and loud grunts, their limbs reaching out for them as if on instinct. But, the ones that hurt her most were those that seemed to know how sick they were and, thus, their faces were filled with this hopelessness that was nearly unfathomable. A part of her reached out to them in comfort and support, and same part of her was stunned to feel a return of that feeling on an intangible level. Startled, she hurried out of the room towards the familiarity of food and Loki's company, pushing the thoughts from her mind as best she could.

Those nasty little buggers were persistent, however, and every free moment she got over the next two days was met with a recurring memory and the urge to reach out to the patients. Finally, after many, many internal monologues of absolute denial, Darcy set aside her work and called out that she was taking a break. Steeling her mind, Darcy stepped out into the stale air outside of the airlock, her body stiff with apprehension. Staff eyed her carefully, but didn't stop her when she sat in a bent metal chair near one of the less decomposed patients. Folding her hands in her lap, Darcy blinked down at the strained musculature, the acrid smelling skin, the thin weight of someone who has probably once been a healthy young man. It turned her stomach to know that this had been happening while she was away, that maybe something could have been done in the eight months of her absence.

The minutes ticked by and Darcy waited for some sort of signal like the one before, a calling from this person for help that would guide her actions. She received none, and the remembered feeling of pushing into nothingness returned from her time on Asgard. Patterns connecting in her head, Darcy pulled her knees to her chest in an unconscious barrier between them before using the core of her being, that magic she had only shared with Loki, to probe the human in front of her. Almost instantly, she got a return signal, the body arching off the bed in a visceral twist of muscle.

Staff rushed the area and she was shoved to the side while they used complex medical instruments to gauge what exactly had happened. Their startled and chaotic expressions told her that this was the first little bit of _something_ that had happened and they were determined to find its source. Loki, drawn by the commotion outside, peered out from his lair of knowledge and shot her a glance that clearly read that she should return to work. Darcy sighed and relented, vowing to try again the next day, perhaps during shift change so that there would be fewer witnesses. And, she did.

Day by day she went to that same young man's side and pushed a little magic into him, sending the gadgets around them to buzzing excitedly with the stimulation. Staff would rush in and she would step away quietly, ducking back into the airlock to complete another report that led to almost nothing significant. It became something of a game to see how long she could do it before someone figured it out. Amazingly, no one even seemed to notice her presence, let alone her interference and she was left relatively unmolested for quite some time. The game, however, became very serious when the patient started to show signs of progress, his skin growing back and hair sliding through dead follicles in clear signs of rejuvenation. Color returned to his cheeks and they were able to lose the restraints as he was no longer aggressing against anything that moved within a few feet of his body. It was then that Darcy knew she had kept the secret too long and that, in order to curb the deaths (which had happened few and far between), she would need to work fast.

To her utter surprise, Coulson was on board with her plan immediately, arranging for the staff to sort the patients from most to least critical with an email and a well placed phone call. Loki, on the other hand, was much more difficult to convince. In the privacy of her apartment, they argued until her throat was hoarse while she called him a hypocrite and he told her she didn't know the incredible danger of her actions. To her credit, Darcy didn't even cry once, though she did threaten him with a tray of ice cubes fresh from the freezer.

Finally, when all the fight had gone out of them and they were sitting slumped on her ratty couch, Loki dropped his head in his hands. "What if you're infected?"

"I won't get infected," Darcy asserted firmly. "I'm inputting magic, not receiving." Part of her wanted to scream 'duh' at the top of her lungs while throwing out her arms in exasperation.

He scoffed at her, "You're always receiving—every second you sit in that room you are receiving bits of power, whether you feel it or not."

"Well," she countered sharply, "Don't you think I would have been infected by now if that were the case?"

Loki shook his head, "It's not the same thing as actively seeking out the disease and curing it." _Condescending asshole._

"This is such bullshit!" Darcy yelled, though her voice was cracking from overuse. "The Avengers and every other member of Shield gets to ride merrily into battle and I have a—nonviolent, mind you—solution to a potentially world-wide epidemic only to get shut down 'cause I might get a little sick. How counterproductive is that?"

"Not just sick, Darcy," Loki burst forth, his face contorting in rage. The expression took her back a bit, having never seen such fierce, bone-chilling antagonism come from Loki. "Dead," he spat. "Lifeless, singing with the choir en memoriam." He steadied himself, breathing heavily, "I…could not bear it."

Making a soft sound of compassion, Darcy rolled over the cushions and wrapped her arms around his torso despite her still present ire at the man. This kind of fear—that is, the fear of losing someone close—she understood, "I'll be fine, you know. Besides, you'll be right there to make sure I'm not screwing up."

He pressed his face into her hair anxiously, "I have no doubt of your abilities, Darcy-love, just your self preservation."

"Hey," Darcy retorted, "What's life without a little danger?"

"Indeed," he replied lowly, a small smile working its way across his thin mouth. "I will allow you to work on the patients, but you will only work on a few a day. This kind of magic requires high levels of energy and I won't have you exhausted for the next month."

Darcy bit her lip, thinking, "Fine, but I get all the pizza I want _and_ I get to pick the movie at night." Pizza was non-negotiable, but she might be swayed on the movie.

"Agreed," Loki said, sighing in resignation and rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

A sudden realization shot clear across Darcy's consciousness, delighting her uncontrollably. "Oh, my god," Darcy breathed suddenly, her expressive face spreading wide with the idea working its way through her brain. It was such a wonderful idea, such a perfect, naughty idea and she loved it. How had she not thought of this before?

Loki gazed at her carefully, "What is it?"

"We just had a fight," she said, sliding to bend over his form so that her spine arched towards him. Her excitement was palpable, but she could see some hesitation in Loki. He wouldn't be apprehensive for long because she was totally sure Loki would enjoy every minute of her line of thought.

"Yes," he drawled, "You could say that we have."

Shaking him lightly, Darcy continued to lead him down her train of thought, "That means we get to have make up sex."

Loki's expression remained confused while Darcy worked his shirt over his shoulders and started unfastening his pants. Her fingers fumbled a little in her excitement, but they got the general idea and quickly caught up with the quick-fire orders from her brain.

"You know, this would go a lot faster if you helped," she offered lightly as she slipped his pants down his hips and off to the floor.

It took a few more seconds for his brain to catch up to the idea his body was fully ready for, but when it finally jumpstarted, he was throwing her over his shoulder and heading to the bedroom. He rolled her down to the bed, a laugh forming in his throat even as he was removing her clothing at an alarming pace. Naked and surprisingly happy despite the frustration of the last hour and a half, Darcy yanked his body down to her and wrapped her limbs around him eagerly. The emotion still bubbling low sprang forth in a whole new form of nails and teeth that tore at his skin. She clawed at him, urging quick, heated strokes, shoving her hips up to him in hot, open invitation. Muscles jerking, Darcy pushed relentlessly towards her peak, relishing the hard grip he had around her hips and knowing there would be bruises in the morning.

Afterwards, as they lay panted on their backs, Loki turned to brace his weight on his elbow, "Make up sex."

"Yeah," she breathed, "It's the earthling way of apologizing without actually apologizing." It was also excellent cardio if the heaving of her lungs was any indication.

He nodded, flopping boneless back to the mattress, "We should do that again."

Darcy laughed and shook her head, "Not sure I can move for round two."

His laugh vibrated against her highly sensitized skin. "Perfect, because I need you still," he replied, sliding down her body to spread her thighs.

"Well," she bit out as a moan slipped past her lips, "By all means."

Her first forays into healing the sick were mostly filled with unsuccessful attempts to reach out to the people lying in the lines of beds. She worked until Loki called for her to quit, which was far too soon for her liking, but she had made a deal and even though it chafed she would honor it (though more make up sex was an appealing idea). The routine, as always, settled into place—she was ignored by staff, Coulson dropped by for updates, and Loki hovered nearby with one eye on his experiments. He often pulled her away, plying her with food and kisses when he thought she was working a little too hard. It was a nice change of pace, being the one taken care of when she so often spent much of her time shoving coffee in the faces of those working around her.

Darcy could tell that Loki was right when he said that she had no idea what she was getting into and that she was putting herself at risk. The use of this kind of magic on such an intense level and for hours at a time left her so exhausted Loki had to carry her out of the medical lab to their rooms so that she could rest. She insisted on returning every day, though it was getting more and more difficult to rise in the morning with the comfort of the bed calling her back to sleep. It was worth it, however, when those first few patients were discharged and let back into the general population. Seeing them take their first steps in months made the exhaustion worth it, made all of Loki's careful glances and man-handling and headaches so totally worth it.

Loki made several attempts to aid Darcy in curing the infected, but his magic couldn't seem to penetrate the defenses of the disease, rolling uselessly off to the floor in dark waves. Comical as it was to see him confused and frustrated, Darcy had to wonder at why her particular brand of power was so effective when Loki was very clearly the more talented magician. He researched it, of course, but there was no book on Asgard or on Earth that covered the necessary information and Darcy was left with nothing but theories. Probably it was because she was human, probably it was because she was already a part of an affined pair and that balanced the power intake, probably she was just a little left of center. More likely, however, it was because she was awesome. None of the theories mattered to Darcy because she was watching her power work wonders and the knowledge that she was, perhaps, saving lives was satisfying enough that she didn't need further explanation. It was enough to know that Darcy was making a difference on a large scale for a change.

When the last of the patients were sent on their way, Darcy was allowed a two week reprieve from work—which, in actuality, turned out to be Coulson's way of keeping her unoccupied while the medical staff ran a billion tests to make sure she hadn't been infected. Darcy thought that there might have been some genetic mapping going on, but she couldn't exactly be sure and who could really tell what Coulson's motives were anyways. Truth be told, she was glad for the rest even though by the end of it, she was pulling her hair out in boredom and hitting up Tony's lab on a regular basis to swap stories and ideas in case of further zombie action.

Loki stayed as long as possible, but Thor was eventually called back home and there was the unspoken knowledge that Loki would need to go with him. She spent about half a minute sulking, but forced herself to buck up and act like an adult so that they could enjoy their time together while it lasted. Besides, she had the benefit of working for a company that had a monopoly on inter-dimensional travel and she was pretty sure Coulson could pull strings if the distance became too much. She had, after all, single handedly solved an epidemic with her general bad-assery and that probably entitled her to a higher clearance. It also entitled her to better coffee, which she informed the secretarial staff only to be given a look of disdain from their freshly primped faces.

Standing on the platform, Loki kissed her slowly, sensually in farewell, his arms pressed to her sides to hold her close. Leaning down, he whispered that he would try to contact her as soon as possible and that he would return once his family understood that he would now be splitting his time between worlds, much like his brother. Darcy hugged him fiercely then stepped away, giving him her brightest smile because she sure as hell refused to cry when this was no 'goodbye', just a 'see you soon'. There was still the matter of introducing him to all the cultural points of difference between the two worlds as well as a couple of more intimate details to be discovered between them.

Days later, as she hit REM sleep for the first time since Loki left, Darcy was thrust into the void of dreaming where Loki met her halfway. He smiled something mischievous at his success, hauling her to his body forcefully. Whispering how much he'd missed her, Loki then proceeded to describe all of the things he'd been thinking about since their separation followed by a live demonstration that was very, very enlightening. Darcy woke smiling that morning, and several mornings a week thereafter as she waited for his return trip. Zombies, it seemed, could change everything.

**UPDATE: The sequel to Pawn Takes King has a title and a basic storyline to accompany it. Again, there are some continuity issues that I'm working on because I'm taking a story that had a minimal plot line and expanding it to encompass a whole other universe that didn't exist at first. **

**The title of the sequel is "Knight Takes Bishop" and I should be posting the first chapter next week. I want to work through a few chapters and make edits so that I have a solid background for the main character, who is an OC. Thanks!-CA  
**


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